


The piece to my puzzle.

by EllieWan



Series: Rainbow Six: Antarctica [1]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Antarctica, Attempt at Humor, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hypothermia, Idiots in Love, Isolation, LGBTQ Themes, Light Angst, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scientific Inaccuracies, Sharing Body Heat, Smut, Touch-Starved, Vostok Base
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:50:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 27,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26562415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieWan/pseuds/EllieWan
Summary: Antarctica, Russian scientific station Vostok. 78.4645° S, 106.8339° E. Current outside temperature: -40.6°C.Maxim Basuda is one of the resident staff of Vostok station. While most of the scientists who came to study Lake Vostok left the base with the coming of the harsh Antarctic winter, Maxim and his comrades ensured the final preparations before the polar night. Everything went according to plan, until the arrival of a new member. Well, nothing terrible, but that's the moment Maxim's heart chose to start drumming, setting its sights on the polar-eyed young man.
Relationships: Lera "Finka" Melnikova/Alexsandr "Tachanka" Senaviev, Maxim "Kapkan" Basuda/Timur "Glaz" Glazkov, Mentions of Gustave "Doc" Kateb/Olivier "Lion" Flament, Monika "IQ" Weiss/Elias "Blitz" Kötz/Dominic "Bandit" Brunsmeier, Shuhrat "Fuze" Kessikbayev/Marius "Jäger" Streicher
Series: Rainbow Six: Antarctica [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1976329
Comments: 44
Kudos: 38





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [La pièce de mon puzzle.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26561221) by [EllieWan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieWan/pseuds/EllieWan). 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys :) 
> 
> Here I go again, attempting to translate my latest work. This Antarctica AU has been all over my mind this week, it was supposed to be a one-shot thing, but I coudn't stop writing about this universe that I came to love. As for now, I currently have written 5 chapters, but I'm not totally happy with them, so I'll just upload this first chapter while getting the rest of the story nice and clean. 
> 
> Also, I'm deeply sorry for the scientific/technical shortcuts I took while writing this story. For instance, it seems that Vostok Station's staff during winter season is around 13 people, but for the sake of the story, I reduced the number of characters, to make it more intimate. Also, I highly reduced the physical and medical issues while adjusting to life on the station (high altitude, low oxygen, very dry air etc.) and many other things like that. 
> 
> But still, I hope you'll enjoy it. I'm very sorry for any mistakes and any weird phrasing, English is definitely not my first language haha

A pair of intense, polar blue eyes. Blue in white. Two sea holes in the ice. That's the first thing Maxim saw. Those eyes then came to life, cheekbones elevated by a smile and the familiar singing of the Russian language purring to his ears. One of their irises was slightly cracked by a small scar; but in this lustrous blue, it reminded him more of the black veins that marble some opals. Their lashes gradually covered with frosty snow, the outside temperature not exceeding -40°C.

"Sorry, I... Are you listening to me?”

Maxim suddenly blinked as if a fire alarm had woken him up from a deep sleep. He invited the man into the airlock of the base, and closed the door behind them.

“I... Who are you?” Maxim hurled with a nonchalant tone.  
" _As_ _I said,_ I come from Bellingshausen" the stranger replied. “I was with the supply plane”  
“Are you… a scientist?”   
“Nope, engineer. “  
“A scientist-engineer?”

The man rolled his eyes, and stated with obviousness:

“No, maintenance engineer, I mostly take care of survival systems.”  
“W-Why did they send you?”  
" _As_ _I said,_ I c- “  
“TIMUR!" A voice exclaimed behind Maxim.

He looked over his shoulder. Aleksandr ran, shoved him and took the blue-eyed man in his arms, lifting him off the ground and twirling with him.

“N-Nice to see you too Sasha!” the stranger coughed.  
“It's been like forever! 3-4 years, right?”  
"Too long, I grant you.”  
"Come on, I'll show you around! You just met Max. Maxim Vassilevich Basuda. A real coconut, hard on the outside, but soft in the inside.”

Maxim blushed and growled as he locked the door.

What was it again, “Timur”? It really didn't ring anything to him. Maybe it was him Romanenko, the guy he had on the radio a few weeks ago? Or Alexeiev? No, those two didn't come from Bellingshausen... Maxim reviewed the names of the other engineers who had been in the base files, but nothing resonated.

But now that "Timur" was walking in front of him, Maxim was able to observe him from a better angle without fear of looking like a madman (which he somehow already failed at). The newbie seemed younger than him, probably in his thirties. He was wearing a thick army parka, padded ski pants and big boots suitable for snow and extreme cold. He walked with a certain enthusiasm and the way his hips rolled... Maxim’s breath hitched when his unconscious, too long isolated and deprived of carnal contact, threw itself at the opportunity to offer him the simple idea of cupping the hips of the handsome man with his palms and-

Maxim shook his head like a wet dog and continued to walk behind them without saying a word. He followed them closely, like the former special agent he was, while Sasha showed Timur around the base. Sasha, by the way, seemed to be clearly more informed of the situation than he was. Once they showed Timur his bunk, they let him settle down, and get changed. Sasha went to the kitchen to make some coffee and Maxim followed him:

"So, what’s going on?” he growled.  
“Timur Ruslanovich Glazkov. He will stay with us this winter, at least until the summer season.”   
“I don't understand, Viktor doesn't come back?”  
“No, they swapped. I received the official message less than ten minutes ago; I didn’t have time to tell any of you. Timur will replace Viktor on the maintenance of the bases’ survival systems, and may even give Shuhrat a hand at the research station.”

A surge of panic smothered Maxim to the point of getting his eyes out of their sockets. What did he mean, they swapped?! Not that Maxim was unhappy that Viktor was leaving, the guy had once been effective, but Vostok's isolation and harsh, nocturnal winter had got the upper hand on his energy and he had fallen into depression, and had joined another island base for the summer. It was better for him and for them that he left Vostok for good.

But did that mean getting that man with the electric-polar eyes instead? And live with him for almost half the year including the harsh polar winter? Maxim didn't like the sound of it. Until now, his life at the base had always been calm and pleasant; he had his routine and his colleagues. There was Sasha, Shuhrat, Lera (whom they nicknamed Finka), and the few scientists tenacious enough to come back from one season to the next, such as Emmanuelle Pichon or Marius Streicher - even though in his case Maxim suspected that it wasn't just the beautiful eyes _of science_ that brought him back.

It was quiet. It was hard. It was nerve-wracking. But he loved his work, he loved isolation, he loved this base with all his heart.

And he had never needed anything. He had never needed anyone. He was no hermit, but he was solitary. That's how he'd always lived, that's how he felt good. So why did his heart start drumming so violently for a pair of blue eyes? That was no good sign at all. He clearly didn't want to be locked up and live with him for the whole winter season to come...

Attempting to fight his pervasive thoughts, he began to grumble:

“Wait but we don't know this guy! I mean, you obviously do. But he's going to spend the winter with us? Has he ever been this isolated? Because I heard him say that he was from Bellingshausen! That base, that’s a fucking village there. They even have a church and they throw parties with the nearby stations! Does he know what he's getting into? All the luxury he knew, we don't have it here, and there’s no way in hell that he-“  
“Maxim. Take it easy. What's happening to you? Why are you so worried?”  
“F-For us. Imagine being locked in the polar night with a guy that has a nervous breakdown? Besides, Viktor emptied the stock of sedatives, we don't have much left.”

Sasha poured some coffee in a cup, and slipped it into Maxim’s hands. Max instinctively tightened his palms around the hot stainless steel and sighed. Sasha then put a smoothing hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye:

“Max. It's going to be okay. This, is a good thing. Viktor was in the middle of a meltdown and we clearly needed someone to help us with maintenance. I know Tim a little bit, I did a season with him on Progress, he's got his head on his shoulders and it's going to be just fine.”

Max took a sip of the warm brown liquid and forced his trapezius muscles to relax.

“If you say so.”  
“Just give him a chance. I'm sure you'll like him.”

_Oh, that's precisely what scares me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it :) If you've come this far, it probably means that you've read the whole chapter and for that I'm very thankful <3  
> I hope you enjoyed it. I know it was short and there was very little action. As I was saying, I'm not totally happy with the next chapters I've written (I think they turned too melo-psychological haha), but this first chapter is generic and small enough so as not create too many inconsistencies with the next ones, in case I happen to rewrite them all u_u
> 
> Anyway, do not hesitate to comment and even leave kudos if you actually liked it or would like to read more about it :D  
> Xoxo -


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timur opens up (more or less) about the reasons that led him to Vostok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter o/ To be frank, there's not going to be a lot of action during the 2-3 following chapters, it's more about setting the relationships and dynamics at the station.

Things didn't really settle for Maxim, because Timur was _a pure sweetie._ He was friendly, open-minded, sociable, with a sense of humour of his own, a great culture and he was very observant - _too_ observant. Maxim dreaded the day Timur would ask him "Is it me, or do you have something pointing in your pants?" because unfortunately, eh it happened... And as if that wasn't enough, Timur was an artist. So far no problem, but the thing is that it offered Maxim too many openings to observe him from all angles when he was drawing. And the more he was peering at him, the more he found him... _well,_ _frankly beautiful_.

Stripped of his thick padded clothes, Timur always wore his beany, and usually a cotton t-shirt with a dark sweatshirt and military camo pants. He had told them that he fought during the Second Chechen War. Sasha and Shuhrat had nodded silently, and Maxim had kept himself from telling what he had experienced in Beslan.

 _What had led him to live in one of the most hostile and isolated places on the planet_.

In all honesty, Timur brought them some freshness, some positive energy and everyone seemed to feel better around him. Sasha and Finka, a couple who’s been quite on the outs with each other for a few months, were relearning how to communicate and gauge the personal space the other needed. As for Marius and Shuhrat, they had decided to fully come out, and were now living their improbable idyll to the fullest. And Maxim...

And Maxim felt lonely.

He wandered down the corridor like a ghost with no one to haunt, when, as he walked by the kitchen, a familiar voice drew him out of his thoughts:

"Max, is that you? Can you help me with the eggs, please?” Timur asked.  
"Sure”

Maxim joined him in the kitchen. Tim had moved the egg pallets to the center, to avoid making a mess, and grinned at him. It was going to be quick. They'd do this by pallet to go faster, but they still had to be careful; it was their food supply, and frequently turning the eggs extended their shelf life from several weeks to several months.

When Maxim grabbed the first pallet, he grazed Timur's fingers, who did not seem to notice the small static electricity that tickled them.

"Do you guys also turn the eggs in Bellingshausen?" Maxim asked.  
"Yup. Even though we were replenished more often than here, we still had at least 30 people to feed, even for winter season. So, we always needed a good stock in case of a problem”  
“And... What’s it like… Bellingshausen?" Maxim shyly asked.  
“Compared to here? Let's say it's more... modern? There's a church, an infirmary with an operating room, and good medical stuff. And even if we are not glued to each other, you never really feel alone on the island. The Chinese often pass through the base to reach the rest of the island, and the Chileans are not too far either.”  
"Did you prefer to work there?"  
"I don't know yet" Timur confessed.

He plunged his blue eyes into Maxim's:  
 _"But I wasn't forced to come here,_ if that's your question" he added.  
“Is that so?”

They finished the last pallet. Tim put his hands on his hips and looked at the ground.

“Let's say I've always sensed... I don't know, like a... calling?”

Maxim hitched a laugh, so Timur hurriedly added, blushing:

"Yes, it's _such a cliché_ I know! But when I arrived in Antarctica, firstly on Progress, then on Bellingshausen... I was happy but something felt wrong for a long time. I was often told about Vostok. I would be told _'discharge this here, it’s for the guys at Vostok',_ or I’d hear Sasha say ' _tomorrow I'll hear from Vostok'_ and... You know what I mean? I felt like I wasn't in the right place, that there was the next step, where I had to be. As if I hadn't stepped out on the right bus stop. Every time someone mentioned Vostok, I would feel a pang of… something. I had to go, I had to make it to Vostok. That's what I was talking about, when I said a ‘calling’."

Timur stopped, then sighed:

"I'm sorry I’m spilling my guts, that must be boring to listen to”  
"Not at all!" Maxim hastily reassured him “No, I don't... I think I understand what you mean. But I'm just curious about one thing... “  
"Yes?"

Timur rubbed his eye - the one where his scarred pupil was.  
Maxim noticed his discomfort, and tried to relax the situation:

“Sorry, I don't mean to pry. But a lot of people, they run away from things. Yes, it's _cliché_ too, but it's true. Even... Even I, I did run away, somehow. And a lot of people do that, so I was wondering...?”

 _Why was he telling him that?_ He had only known Timur for a few weeks and now the words were flowing out of his mouth without the slightest restraint...  
  
"Don't worry, I understand" Timur said “It's just that... in fact it's not so much that I _run_ _away_ from something _._ It's more than _I'm looking_ for something. “  
“And... What’re you looking for?”

Timur spread his hands, showing the emptiness in front of him, the emptiness of his answer, and shrugged.  
He then raised his blue eyes to Maxim’s, with a faint smile, almost forced - sad?

“I don't know. But I guess I've never been this close to find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh Timur, little do you know @.@
> 
> Thank you for reading! I know it was light and cliché, but it wrote itself like that u_u  
> Funfact, that thing about turning the eggs, I saw it on a documentary about a russian antartic base, on a lost TV channel in the middle of a night when I couldn't sleep a few years ago haha My brain really digged that stuff out from the abysses of my memories.
> 
> \+ I know I canon-diverged cause I think in R6's official lore, Glaz 'only' did Russo-Georgian and classified operations, but I don't know, I wanted them to share the common long and exhausting, demoralizing experience of a several year war.
> 
> The next chapters very soon!


	3. The piece to my puzzle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maxim and Timur get closer... then put some distance.  
> Then get closer again? Maxim panics.

After a very intense week, starting with a computer outage at the meteorological station that scared the shit out of Marius and Emmanuelle, and the complicated clearing of an American truck that got stuck on the road between Mac Murdo and Amundsen-Scott stations, and which had called them in an emergency, Vostok had _finally_ found a semblance of peace. The team was exhausted, and winter was coming; everyday, the dreaded polar night snatching the last minutes of sunshine from them. But everything was ready; the supplies, the equipment; all systems go. For now.

That morning, Timur was lying on a couch near the library. A cup of hot tea in one palm, the other hand on his forehead, his eyes were closed, and his face contained a grimace of pain. Maxim saw him as he left the kitchen, and couldn't help but go check on him.

"Hey, you’re okay?” He asked him.  
“I don’t know who brought this couch from the continent, but it must have been in the 60s given the springs I feel in my back... but at the same time... man, I love this couch” the yougest sighed.

Maxim laughed a little, and raised Timur's legs to sit next to him, placing Tim’s ankles on his own thighs. Resting one hand on his shin. Maxim and Timur had become more tactile as the days went by. Everyone was getting more tactile; it was a fact in Vostok.

 _The heart that drummed against his rib cage, on the other hand_...

"Legend has it that it was on this couch that the first murderer of Antarctica was sitting when he decided to kill his comrade" Maxim said.  
“You’re talking about the chess player, back in '59?”  
"Yes”  
“If that makes you feel any better, I hate chess.”  
“Hehe, quite a paradox, coming from you, Timur.”  
“What do you mean?“  
“Tamerlane Chess, created by Emperor Timur?”  
“Aaaaaah! That thing!” he exclaimed “You're too quick for me today.”  
"I’d rather say _you’re_ out of it" Maxim said in a softer tone “What's wrong?”  
“My head hurts.”  
“Did you take some pills?”  
“Nope, winter has barely started, I’d rather not dip into the kit right now. Yesterday's clearing has emptied my energy and I am not quite used to the altitude yet. In Bellingshausen we were almost at sea level.”  
“He, I knew it, you got used to princely life there. _Emperor Timur._ ”  
“Oh no, don't you dare call me that!“  
"That was a joke!”

Maxim didn't realize it, but he had begun to massage Timur's ankles, occasionally rubbing his shins, circling his joints with his hands and kneading his comrade's tired muscles. It was dangerous, but at the same time addictive, Maxim couldn’t stop. Timur brought his second hand to his tea cup and let his head fall back on the armrest in a half-erotic half-frustrated moan:

"Oh my God, that feels so good, Max. Marry me”  
“Uh, I didn't know you were batting for the other team”  
“Well, I bat for both. But right now, there’s one in particular I’d rather play for”

Maxim paused.

_Now what?!_

Seeming to immediately regret his statement, Timur opened his eyes and raised his head:

"Max sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you! I'm so sorry!”  
“I... N-No, it doesn't matter. “  
“I thought you knew.”

If Maxim remained stoic on the outside, inside it was a monumental chaos that would make the Big Bang blush. _Timur was bisexual_. Attracted by men. It unlocked a door that Maxim would rather keep closed. And now that this door was ajar, it was as if a bewitching light was bursting out of it, illuminating the dark room in which he’s been languishing; and he couldn’t take his eyes out of it.

He wanted to answer something to Timur to reassure him, to tell him that it didn't matter, and to actually act as if nothing mattered; but at the same time, he needed to get away from him, just enough time to pick up his emotions that had spilled on the ground, put them back in place, reorganize his face and climb back on the train of daily life.

But Maxim started to panic.

"No really, there's no problem. On the contrary, thank you for telling me. I'm just going to see if Lera needs a hand, so I don't get called a slacker. »

Timur answered nothing and Maxim stopped himself from glancing at his face, too frightened by what he dreaded to find there: sadness, disappointment, anger, disgust?

He heard a simple, frankly unconvinced "ok" when he left the room.

The rest of the day was mentally intense. Maxim had been wandering outside, but soon the extreme temperatures had forced him back inside the station, for fear of frostbite. He tried to busy himself the best he could. And just when he thought that that old 1000 pieces puzzle of the Vostok spacecraft was going to empty his mind enough to cool him a little (paradoxical, eh? when you live at -70 degrees Celsius), even this poor puzzle was cursed. It was missing one last piece, one last piece to give Yuri Gagarin that mischievous smile that was to seduce entire peoples all around the world.

One last piece that was _nowhere to be found,_ of course! Not in the box. Not under the table, not under the furniture, nowhere. No one had cleaned up yet, so it had not been unintentionally swept away and put in the trash. It had simply disappeared. What if it had never been in that damn box in the first place? Maxim had never done this puzzle before, so maybe, Brezhnev was still in power when this piece had been lost. It was horrible, not knowing how to find what he was missing. And the feeling of having it potentially right next to him, in full sight, and being unable to get hold of it.

Maxim buried his head in his hands, taking deep breaths and massaging his neck. _Don’t shit a brick about it, it's just a puzzle._ He inhaled, exhaled, and managed to relax his shoulder blades. This is precisely the moment Shuhrat and Timur chose to enter the living room. They had spent the day at the power station after detecting an anomaly in the readings and fortunately the problem had been more about the measurement instruments than the energy system itself. Shuhrat still had some frost in his eyebrows and Timur seemed exhausted, judging by his circled eyes and his empty gaze. His headache may not have passed.

"Oh man, you took that old puzzle from its dusty shelf!” Shuhrat exclaimed. “I've never done it, what's it worth?”  
"Not much" Maxim grumbled “It’s missing a piece”  
“Just one?”  
"Yes. Just one. I think I'm jinxed.”

Shuhrat and Timur got closer and Shuhrat scoffed:

"Haha indeed, Comrade Gagarin is missing some teeth!”

But Timur frowned, and said:

“Wait, I... I wonder if… I’m not the one with the last piece.”

Maxim raised an eyebrow:  
“What do you mean? Did you take it from the box?”  
“No, I... I had forgotten, but I found an old puzzle piece two weeks ago when I picked up a book from the library, it had no paint on it so I didn't really know what to do with it. Wait, I think I even put it in that sweatshirt...”

Timur unzipped one of his pockets and searched. He pulled out a small piece of wood actually cut like a piece of puzzle, the paint coat totally scraped off. He got closer, and placed the coin on Gagarin's mouth. The piece fit perfectly:

"Perfect! I can't believe I've had it all this time. I didn't know where to put it so it wouldn't be lost, or what puzzle I had to look for.”

Maxim and Timur exchanged glances. And they smiled shyly at each other.

Shuhrat cleared his throat:

"Well, it's very cute guys, but I require your help" Shuhrat began.  
"What's going on?" Timur asked.  
“Well thing is that tomorrow is the 2nd anniversary of Marius and I’s meeting. And I have prepared… absolutely nothing, and I count on my dear brothers to help me out of this _situation_ ”  
“Seriously, Shuhrat?!” his two colleagues exclaimed.

The Uzbek simply offered them a big innocent grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of things can happen in one day! haha  
> Still tried in this chapter to settle the dynamics at the base.  
> Next chapter: more lore about Sasha, a bit of Shuhrat, and one more step in Maxim/Timur's relationship :)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	4. Home is where the heart is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha saved the day.  
> Shuhrat is happy.  
> Timur teases Maxim.  
> Maxim is Maxim.
> 
> And everything is going way to fast for him.

What you need to know is that Sasha is not "just" one of the oldest active workers in Antarctica. He started working there after an intense career in the army: he had fought in Afghanistan with the Red Army, and during the first Chechnya War. As a combat engineer specialized in armoured vehicles (he had no less than 5 different tank driving licenses), he had jumped at the opportunity when he heard of a need for a worker specialized in vehicle maintenance and with good survival skills in hostile environments to work in Antarctica. What you should also know is that his first mission was to get Vostok back on track after its de-Sovietization.

He had accompanied the British scientific delegation, including Mike Baker, during the delimitation of Lake Vostok, located some 4,000 meters deep, which made the headlines in 1996. He even kept a photograph of the crew on his bedside table, where you could see him hugging Mike. 

Sasha had already confessed to Vostok's current team that he did not think he was entitled to this happiness, that he did not know what he had done to deserve it, but that he had accepted it, as he would continue to accept with humble bliss all the beautiful things that life would continue to present to him. Like his romance with Lera, the Belarusian scientist and doctor he picked up at Mirny station two years ago. Like Shuhrat, this uzbek little brother, a true little drilling genius and great friend of scientists who arrived 5 years ago with Maxim to replace the old resident team.

In short, Sasha wasn't just one of the old timers. He was a true social genius and he had just saved Shuhrat and Marius' dating anniversary by revealing mysterious canned lunch boxes, but not just any canned food, no:

"Caviar?! Beluga?! Wh... And what is _that_?” Shuhrat exclaimed, opening his Asian eyes wide.

Shuhrat, Timur, Maxim and Sasha were in the dorm, where Sasha had pulled out a box from under his bed and revealed the magic boxes.

“Hehe, _that_ my little Shushu, are the meals served to the cosmonauts on the great occasions! A friend of mine was in charge of security at Star city and got me some. And I took them with me.”  
“And you’ve never dipped into it?”  
“Well you tell me. Does it look like there are many left?”

Shuhrat laughed.  
The cardboard was half empty.

"I feel guilty now" the Uzbek admitted “When I said I needed help with our anniversary, I didn't think you'd all go this far. Maxim gave me a special vodka he had traded with a guy from Mirny and Timur made me a gorgeous drawing.”

Maxim sighed:

“It's normal, _bratukha._ We know it means a lot to you.”

Shuhrat, who always forced his smile and clown looks, finally let the features of his face relax. He pinched his lips and looked down. Sasha instinctively got closer, without forcing himself into his personal space:

“No, I... I don't know if you really understand how important this is to me. Well, I mean, you may well suspect it, but... I don't know, sometimes I feel like I'm living a dream and I'm going to wake up, and it terrifies me. Sometimes when I wake up at night, I need to touch everything around me to convince myself that all is real. You know, Sasha, you once told us that you didn't know what you had done to deserve all this happiness, and often... That's what it feels like. I kind of feel like there's a delivery error somewhere. “  
“Impostor syndrome." Timur whispered without judgment.

Shuhrat shrugged:

"Yeah probably. It's just that... I’ve been told so many times that I would never be happy. That by leaving the army I had butchered my chances of making it in life. That I could never love... another man or else I would... And that I couldn't both believe in God and be... And that real friends didn't exist, that people were selfish, that they stayed only out of interest and... And everything we have here, I... “

He took a deep breath:

"I didn't think it could exist and that I could taste it, that's all. And I'm happy. Even if I'm afraid of losing everything. Anyway, sorry, I didn't mean to ruin the mood but I wanted to tell you ... Thank you. I love you guys.”

Sasha clearly couldn't hold back any longer, and circled Shuhrat with his arms to lift him off the ground and give him a big hug. Shuhrat let him and laughed.

"I'll set the table" Timur said, offering them some privacy.

_Later in the evening..._

"Then I told him: _you can stop worrying about grenades, now!”_ Marius recounted “But of course, Shuhrat takes me literally, and asks me if I have a permit to transport military equipment on Russian territory. So I tell him that it was a joke, and I see him all wound up, and I start freaking out, I'm like: _oh no, that's it, first day, and you've already managed to anger a Russian man in his natural habitat.”_

Sasha burst out laughing as he placed a warm hand behind Lera's back, sitting next to her. The full group was seated at the table. Shuhrat and Marius were sitting in front of Lera and Sasha. Timur and Maxim were each seated in front of each other on the end of the table. At the other end, Emmanuelle and Monika. Everyone was laughing, and a little drunk. The atmosphere was euphoric. Both couples radiated with light, and a soothing warmth was emanating from them.

Maxim's heart had started to accelerate again during the evening. And he was trying to persuade himself that it was _not_ because Timur was sitting right in front of him, his drunken blue eyes and his tender and approximate smile, his positive empathy and the way he would tangle his fingers between them when he didn't have his notebook to scribble. Sometimes, Timur would catch Maxim looking at him, and even though the latter quickly looked away, he had time to see Timur's lips arching up in a discreet smile.

Trying to silence his heartbeat and ignore the kind of horizontal gravity that drew him to Timur, Maxim tried to focus his attention to Shuhrat and Marius’s anecdotes.

And just when he thought he managed to, he felt a foot against his. Once. Then twice. But when he wanted to question Timur with his eyes, the young man looked up to the ceiling in an exaggerated way, his mischievous smile at the corner of his lips. Maybe he didn't do it on purpose? The tables were narrow, and Maxim was a little taller than him, maybe he was bothering him with his legs and-

Oh no, no, no. He felt Timur's foot stroke his shin.

_Timur was playing fucking footsie with him_.

Maxim widened his eyes like a shy virgin and looked for Timur’s eyes. Timur who was determined to ignore him, and who continued to deliberately dodge his gaze. Maxim tried to hide his legs, put them under his chair, but Timur was... inventive.

"You’re okay, Max? Your face is tomato red, don't tell me you've drunk too much?” Monika kindly mocked.

And, because it couldn’t get any worse, now all his comrades’ eyes were on him.

"Wait a minute, that's true" Timur added "You're so red, Max. You’re sure you're okay?”

_You little shit,_ Max's eyebrows hurled at him.

“N-No it's fine. I'm just feeling a little hot. I'm going to take off my sweater" he clumsily mumbled.  
"Indeed, you must be hot, please do take off your sweater" Timur replied, with a lascivious voice.

_I'm going to kill him._

Maxim pulled off his sweater, stretching his telnyashka to hide his belly. He threw his sweater on the back of his chair, and reached for a glass of water but noticed, to his delight, that there was no more water in the table carafe. _To his delight_ , because he had the perfect pretext now. Maxim got up from his chair, and pulled out his greatest acting:

"Oh, there's no water left. I'll go get some. Come on Tim, give me a hand.”  
"To fill a jug of water?" Timur laughed, he had perfectly understood Max’s point. “I think you’ll do just fine without me, big guy.”

Maxim grabbed Timur by the arm and forced him up from his chair:  
“Timur Ruslanovich, come with me.”

Timur raised his hands as a sign of surrender. The others had the good sense not to add fuel to the fire, and resumed their conversations, as if nothing had happened. Maxim then pulled Timur into the kitchen and closed the door behind them.

"Okay, okay Max, then, let's fill this carafe!” Timur swaggered.

Maxim brutally placed the carafe on the counter, and in a split second he had pushed Timur against the food cupboard. Timur hitched a hiccup of surprise, and Maxim placed his forearm on his collarbones to keep him in place:

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Maxim grunted.  
“Ok, the carafe can wait I guess.”  
“You were playing… footsie with me!”  
“Yes, we could say that. “  
“Why?!”  
“Because I like to tease you. And I like it when you blush. And touch you. I like to touch you.”

Maxim took off his arm and frowned:  
“Tim, don't let isolation get to your head. Winter has barely begun.”  
“It's not isolation, Max.”  
“Yes, it is. It's isolation. You know that. It may have been different at Bellingshausen since you were a lot and not far from other bases, but here it affects a lot more. The altitude, the cold, the polar night, the tiny size of the station, the dormitory where we’re all glued together, it's a fact. And you... You’re probably touch-starved, plus we've been drinking, so you're not quite sober.”   
“Is it that hard for you to believe?”  
“What?”

Timur grabbed Maxim's hand with his fingertips.  
  
“That I like to be with you?”

Maxim pulled off his hand and shook his head with a sigh:  
“Tim, really. It's isolation, that's why you're –“  
“Don't pretend you don't feel anything, either.”  
“I - “  
“You think I didn't notice the way you peep at me whenever you think I don’t see you? When I draw, when I cook, when I fix something... And every time I cross your eyes, you look away. Every time it slides to _this_ , you run away. Why?”

Maxim took a deep breath.

“Because it can’t work.”  
“How would you know?”  
“We don't know each other well enough. We could argue and disrupt our work. We could start hating our guts and it would be a dangerous mess.”

Tim nodded, despite his apparent disappointment. He bit the inside of his cheek.

"Yes. Yes, you're right, we don't know each other well enough. I... I understand. Sorry. It's just that... I don't know if you remember, but I told you I was looking for something, but I didn't really know what?”

Maxim tensed, he clearly felt where it was going:

"When I gave you the puzzle piece it made sense. I felt it. I felt what I had come for and I felt that I had found it. I know the weight of my words when I tell you this. I've been working in Antarctica for 4 years and I've never felt that way for anyone. Nor in my life before, for that matter. I... I just feel like everything makes sense now. So... So, that's it. I understand that we have known each other for a very short time and that the circumstances don’t help, so um ... That's it. The door is open. Honestly open.”

Maxim finally breathed. He had held back without realizing it:

“What scares me the most is that you... um don't know what you're getting yourself into. I... Well you obviously know that I’m _not unattracted_ to you. But it's only been a few weeks, I'm just scared that you may jump to conclusions and that you’ll be... disappointed. That it wouldn’t work. We’d feel bad.”

He took a deep breath, and went on:

"I love this life. I love this station. I found a family there, peace, calm, away from people, away from the world. And I will never give up this life. I know that one day I’ll be too old and I’ll probably have to leave this continent... but I like to think that I’d... die before? Just to stay here. You see, Shuhrat and Marius are already talking about how they could try to meet on Novolazarevskaya once Marius's researches at Vostok are over, and they talk about going seasonal, to have half the year to live together... Outside. That's something I'll never be able to do... _Go back outside._ ”

He sighed and stroked Timur's shoulder. He didn't like his sad face. He wanted to rub that sadness away and revive his blue eyes that he loved so much. The contact was soft, pleasant; it made sense, as if his hand belonged there. Timur put his own on top, and stroked his fingers.

"I'd like to tell you that I understand" Timur began. “Because I sort of think that I understand. But at the same time, it seems so important to you that I want to weigh my words and... just show you. And probably indeed... take the time. »

Maxim sighed with frustration. Timur was perfect. He understood at that moment what his heart at been trying to tell him, pounding brutally since the day his eyes crossed those polar sapphires. His heart had recognized its equal.

He couldn't help but pull Timur at him, closing his arms around him to squeeze him tightly. Timur wrapped his arms around his ribs and huddled against him. Maxim felt his warm breath on his neck. Almost his lips on his skin.

_Ok, I guess you won_ , Maxim whispered to his heart, _does it mean I’m in love?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn’t think that would be that easy, Tim? hehe
> 
> Don’t worry, Timur will have his own understanding of “taking time”… which will involve… a lot of teasing haha  
> The next chapters will be a bit crazy, I had a lot of fun writing them.
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you'll enjoy the rest of it : )


	5. A friendly hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After this eventful night, Vostok doesn't have time to rest: French-Italian Concordia station has an emergency and calls for their help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi :) 
> 
> Finally some action! I'd also like to apologize for all the gigantic inaccuracies in this chapter. I made Concordia's station waaay closer to Vostok, than IRL + many stuffs regarding the missions and expeditions' preparation is much simplified, same for human survival in a -50°C environment, antarctic soil properties and... well, it's a fanfiction, right? x)
> 
> Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it!

The night was beautiful. It was like Christmas; a festive dinner, a cheerful spirit, the warmth of happy people, the family feels. Timur had not insisted, but occasionally been giving sweet glances to Maxim. Maxim was happy, despite the brakes he had put on their "relationship"; his heart was purring to know itself appreciated, to know itself close to Timur and above all, to know him ready to wait respectfully. Their hug had been pleasant, comfortable. _Maxim would have asked for more..._

But waking up was complicated the next morning. After quite a terrible sleep, between Sasha’s snoring, Finka who pushed him from the bed to silence him, and the rustle of wet lips coming from Marius and Shuhrat’s beds...

The pros of sharing a dorm was that you never wake up alone from a nightmare, you have immediate markers, even friends to listen to you and help you go back to sleep. The cons being _the absolute_ lack of intimacy and the clarity with which the sounds were conveyed.

Maxim was staring into space, thoughtful. He came back to reality when someone poured fresh coffee in his cup. He looked up; it was Timur. His blue eyes plunged into his:

"You look like you need a second cup.”  
“Is that a way of saying that I look like shit?”

Timur smiled, went to put the coffee pot back on the counter, then came to sit with his own cup in front of Maxim.

“You know I can't say that. “  
“Uh, why?”   
“Because you always look cute.”

Maxim almost choked on his coffee and put the cup down while tapping his chest. Timur laughed, while Maxim turned tomato red.

“Despite yesterday, you're still not cooled down? Wait till we go out, it's -50°C today” Maxim snickered.  
“Sorry, I couldn’t help it”

This is the moment Sasha chose to suddenly enter the kitchen, his face serious and worried:

“Basuda, Glazkov, they have an emergency at Concordia, take Lera with you, you have 15min to get prepared”  
“What’s the matter? How can we help?”   
“They have two guys stuck between two layers of ice that have detached under their vehicle. But their only truck capable of getting them out of there is already out, several kilometers from the other side of their base. Take Lera with you, apparently one of them is injured. Max, you’ve done this before, you're going to handle it just fine, I can't go out, we’re expecting important comms today. Timur you'll take over from Max and drive everyone home on the way back. They're planning a storm tonight, so you better hurry up!”

Without a second thought, everyone got prepared, checking the truck’s condition, preparing the survival equipment, checking the tanks, the batteries of any electronic device, the emergency kits and everything else they would need. This was not the first time they’d go on a rescue mission for another base, from another country. But that didn't mean they were comfortable going out with the arrival of the polar night, in this hostile cold.

The road to the coordinates indicated by Sasha was not the most complicated, but the path being absolutely unmarked, Maxim had to guess everything under the thick white layer. The heavy vehicle had to go down several hills to leave Vostok’s perch. Maxim was driving with caution: poor handling or too high a speed could pull the vehicle in a fall and cause it serious damage, but at the same time they couldn’t waste a minute if they wanted to arrive in time to help the two Frenchmen. They had not had much information, but apparently the two scientists had simply gone to get news of a measuring instrument located about twenty kilometers from their station, a fairly classic path, but the ruthless continent had played up again.

They arrived about 4 hours later and positioned themselves near the French vehicle, caught between the two layers of ice, threatening to fall into a gaping crack made invisible by the snowpack. A young man came out of the survival tent they had managed to set up, and ran towards them, his lips chapped and depigmenting, turning purple:

"Are you the help from Vostok?“  
"Yes, I assume you're the guys from Concordia?" Maxim asked, leaning his elbow on the truck window.   
"Yes! I'm Julien Nizan, chemist and glaciologist. We took the road we always take, but we got caught in this crack. The driver took a nasty blow to the head, he bleeds a little and with the lack of oxygen at this altitude, I don’t know whether he has a concussion or if his condition is normal.”  
"We have a doctor with us, Lera Melnikova" Maxim explained, pointing to Finka with his chin “Can your colleague move? I'm going to hang the back of your vehicle and pull it out of there, you have to move your tent.”  
“Of course, sir...?”  
“Basuda. Maxim Basuda. Timur, keep an eye on the engine, I'll get the chains.”

Maxim stepped out into the freezing cold, Lera gave Julien a survival blanket and helped him into the back of their vehicle, so that he could shelter from the cold winds. She then retrieved her medical kit, went to the tent, raising her legs as best she could to walk in the thick snowpack. Maxim retrieved the big chains, wrapped them around his bust and proceeded cautiously to the back of the trapped scientific vehicle.

"Olivier?!” Lera exclaimed behind him.   
"Lera?" a groggy voice replied.  
“You can't stay out of trouble for one single season, can you?”  
“Tell me about it... Gustave’s going to kill me...”

Getting the vehicle out of the crevasse happened to be much more complicated than expected, but after several ingenious attempts, they eventually fully extracted it. But they weren’t done, since in the handling, the vehicle's tank had been pierced and had spit out all its fuel.

Julien began to panic:   
"Oh my God, this is horrible! We're going to get kicked out of the station! We're going to get jailed for life! We ruined Antarctica!!! We’ve spread hydrocarbons in a perfectly natural environment... a perfectly… perfect perfection!”

The young Frenchman hiccupped and began to cry, burying his head in the thick cotton of his hood.   
"Imagine the microorganisms under the surface that we're suffocating, the soil we poisoned and –“  
“Hey, hey!” Timur called, putting an arm around his shoulders. “Hey everything is fine, it wasn't your fault.”  
"Yes it was! We didn't pay enough attention! We were careless, stupid and- and- “  
“You could not know, you were used to taking that road, you said.“  
“But the result is there! **We poisoned Antarctica!** We don't deserve to be here, we- “

Timur tightened his embrace and the Frenchman snuggled up against his coat, crying his eyes out. Maxim felt a hint of jealousy, but at the same time a kind of... pride? Timur had a knack for talking to people, understanding them and finding the right words.

“Shhhh, shhhh it's going to be okay.” Timur murmured "We'll take you back to your base, reassure your colleagues and get you warm with a good meal. How does it sound?”  
"We're not going to leave the vehicle here, are we?" the young Frenchman sniffed.   
"Max?" Timur asked over his shoulder.   
“We could tow it without too many problems given its weight, but I don't know the road very well.”   
"I'll show you" Olivier replied "The ground can get very flat if we take a little detour.“  
"How long would it take to Concordia?" Max asked.   
“Well, given the reduced speed due to the towing, in addition to the detour ... about four hours?”   
"That’s a bit late for us to get back to Vostok" Finka calculated “Do you think we could stay at Concordia to spend the night? There's a storm coming up in the late evening.”   
"I don't think there’d be any problem, I can call Gilles and ask him" Olivier offered.   
"Nice, I’ll call Sasha" she informed.

Timur still had a weeping young Julien in his arms. Maxim hadn’t realized, but he’d been looking at them attentively and… not discreetly. Timur noticed him, and winked at him.

Maxim blushed as he looked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Next chapters coming soon!


	6. Concordia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max, Tim and Lera arrive at Concordia Station.  
> They discover a... colourful small community there :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter o/
> 
> If you're interested, this is the small Concordia tour that inspired me a lot when writing the chapter.  
> https://youtu.be/kOyA3YGZwwY (sorry it's in French, but at least you'll see a complete tour of Concordia at the end of the winter season :D)
> 
> Enjoy :)

The road that Olivier indicated was indeed way flatter, and smoother. Maxim let Timur drive, in order to rest a little from. The French satellite phone rang, and Olivier answered, but none of the Russians could understand the baguette language:

_"We're coming soon, yes... No, nothing to report... Yes, I know... Wait, fuck I just realized... The flags! Hide the flags! ... What flags I’m talking about?! Dude, the flags! Yes! ... Yes, she’s ok with it, but I don't know about the other two, they're Russians after all, they're going to freak out when they see all these rainbows!... Yes... I think we’ll be there in half an hour. Yes, the wind's already rising, we'll be careful, I promise. No, please don't tell Doc until we get there, I beg you... Okay, awesome, thank you. See you.”_

Hanging up, he apologized:

"Sorry, they just wanted to know if we still had a long road ahead.”

Timur raised an eyebrow and Olivier noticed it in the rearview mirror of the truck.  
“You have a very... special way to tell them we were arriving, it looked like you were panicking.”  
“Ah um... “

Julien blushed and hid his head in his coat.

"It's just that I didn't want them to worry our doctor too much, he's very... hot-tempered. And it's not exactly the first time I got hurt.”  
"I can confirm that" Finka laughed “We’ve been laughing about it with Manu.”  
“Manu? Like Emmanuelle?” Julien suddenly exclaimed.  
“Yes, she is with us at Vostok.”  
"I had no idea!" the young Frenchman cried, in awe.  
"Hey, you didn’t believe me when I said it was a small circle here during winter season!" Olivier added “Do you have other seasonal workers?”  
"This year we are downsizing for budgetary reasons" Finka explained “So we just have Manu, Marius Streicher, a scientific engineer specialized in geology and glaciology and Monika Weiss, another German scientist who specializes in climate and atmospheric sciences.”

The two Frenchmen frowned, and Olivier ventured:  
“Are we talking about a rather tall blonde, a little haughty at first sight?”  
"Yes" Lera replied "You know her?"  
“Um... perhaps, I think some people mentioned her” Julien stuttered.  
"Now that I think about it" Timur said, recalling the details "she told us that her partner was also in Antarctica but in another base. What was his name again... Dominic? Or Elias?”

Julien began to blush again, and Olivier went on:  
“See, Juju! Antarctica is a very small world. Have you guys always worked at Vostok or worked on other stations?”  
“I started on Progress" Timur recounted “In 2015 there was a lot of work to add an extra wing to the main building and accommodate more people, and after falling behind schedule, they started looking for an engineer to support the site supervisor. I was supposed to stay just for a season, but I ended up staying there for two years, with a small break. Then I was dispatched to Bellingshausen to work in maintenance, as there was a lot of contact with Chinese scientists and I happened to speak Chinese.”

Maxim froze:

“So what, you speak Chinese now?!”  
"Yup.”  
“How in the world…?”  
"Don’t forget I’m from Vladivostok" Timur gently mocked.  
"Well, now, I’ve heard everything” Maxim groaned, bringing his gloved hand to his face.  
“So yeah, in short, after several seasons there, I was asked if I could replace someone on Vostok for the coming winter. And I jumped at the chance. What about you?”  
"I worked for a super long time on Dumont d'Urville station” Olivier began “I helped during the winters to maintain electronic systems and some scientific devices. That's when I met Lera, by the way, she was our doctor's assistant. And then with Concordia's growing activity, I was naturally transferred there last winter.”  
"And how is it, there?" Timur asked.  
“It's much more familial. ‘Cause Dumont d'Urville, it’s very... active? Always a lot of hustle and bustle. There're emergencies everywhere. Convoys to prepare, vehicles to repair, boat arrivals, hundreds of scientists to accommodate, take-offs and landings, freight trains to tow... But at the same time, the beauty of Dumont is to see the face of the people who arrive by boat, and their shock the first time they set foot and step on Antarctica itself. Some people even cry.”

Suddenly Timur leaned on the steering wheel and narrowed his eyes:  
“Wait, is that your base, the two cans I see in the distance?”

Olivier slightly bent frontwards to look at the windshield, and shouted in French:  
“ _Bienvenue à Concordia, camarades.”_

A few hundred yards away, a man in a navy-blue parka stepped away from the complex, waving at them. He showed them where to park their truck, where it would be safe from the storm, that was slowly threatening them, and the freezing cold it brought. Once everything was secured, everyone stepped out of the truck and the man appeared in front of Maxim, reaching out to him.

The man was white, surely brown-haired given the colour of his eyebrows, and he sported a big smile. But most of all, he was tall. _Very tall:_   
"Gilles Touré, station manager. But they call me _Montagne,_ it means Mountain in French.”

Maxim raised his eyebrows, his Russian tongue frankly lost by the nasal sounds of the nickname, then answered by shaking his hand:  
“Maxim Vassilevich Basuda, just call me Maxim. We managed to tow your vehicle, but I'm afraid it's in a bad state, the tank has been punctured and the frost has probably damaged your engine... Do you have anyone who could take a look at it?”  
“Maestro will take a closer look, he's our chief technician. But come on, let's first get inside, the storm is coming. Olivier, go to Doc's right now. Julien, go change and get warm, you must be exhausted, and send Elias to retrieve your gear from the truck.”

The youngest nodded shyly and rushed into the station. Lera appeared in front of "Montagne":  
“Good evening, I'm Lera Melnikova, Gustave's former assistant on Dumont d'Urville. Can I go with Olivier and go greet Gustave?”  
“Oh, sure! Welcome Lera.”

Timur appeared and shook Gilles' hand:  
“Timur Ruslanovich Glazkov.”  
“Pleased to meet you, Gilles Touré. Now let’s go.”

They entered one of the two "cans." The temperature changed quite quickly, and Gilles pointed them to a place where they could put their thick parkas and ushankas away. Gilles showed them around the "quiet" building. Apparently, of the two cans, one was quieter than the other. He showed them the night floor; each room had a small desk, closets, a window and a bunk bed that could accommodate two people. Maxim couldn't help but notice:  
"You have a lot of berths; how many people can you welcome during the summer season?”  
“Oh, thirty in this building, and we can go up to 90 using the old summer camp outside. But in winter, we are much less, hence the fact that we can afford to be one per room!”

His words were immediately denied when they passed a room, with its undone bed, with clearly things belonging to two different people. A couple was obviously sleeping here. And the two Russians were not at the end of their surprises, as they passed the room of another crewmember, who hurried to hide a rainbow flag and threw himself on the doorstep:

"Hey, um... _Privet komrads?”_

The man was wearing an Addidas jog and a black short-sleeved T-shirt with yellow stripes on the sides. His brown beard, thick eyebrows, strong muscles, and half-old school half-Japanese tattoos gave him the looks of a rockstar.

Gilles sighed while facepalming:  
“This is Dominic Brunsmeier, our electrician. He is one of Concordia's rare non-French or Italian staff, due to a special deal for this season.”   
"Dominic, as in Dominic, Monika Weiss’s partner?" Timur asked

The eyes of the German lit up:  
“Y-Yes! She told you about me?”  
"Yes, even if I often get mixed up, between Dominic and Eli-“  
“Elias, wait!" Julien's voice cried at the other end of the arched corridor.  
"I must hide the flags!" another voice with a thick German accent replied.

And so, said Elias appeared to them, visibly ready to enter Dominic's room. Maxim and Timur exchanged an accomplice and suspicious glance.  
"Elias, I presume?" Timur asked “Monika Weiss' partner, right?”

Elias tangled an embarrassed hand in his rebellious hair and stretched out his other hand:  
“Yes, nice to meet you. Elias Kötz.”

Timur shook his hand with a big smile, Dominic stopped breathing, and Gilles massaged the ridge of his nose.  
“Nice to meet you. So, you're both Monika's partners?”  
“Hum… About that...” Elias stuttered.  
"So what?" Dominic hurled back “You’ve got a problem with that? Then go back to your Soviet base!”

Maxim tensed, but Timur laughed:  
“Oh no, fear not, we have nothing against LGBT or polyamorous people. See, I am madly in love with the scowling Russian specimen that you can observe to my right, out of its natural habitat.”

Everyone, including Maxim, stopped breathing. A gaping silence, then the bright and authentic laughter coming from Gilles that relaxed the atmosphere. Maxim grabbed his neck warmer to hide his blushing face, and growled.  
“Really?” Elias hesitantly asked.  
“Haha yes. Like, we're not together. Not that I’d have any problem with that. But don't worry, even if we Russians have a bad reputation... Vostok is… let’s say very... _open-minded…_ “

Then everyone sighed with relief.  
"My God, I'm sorry I assumed the worst right away!" Elias exclaimed “Welcome and thank you for bringing us our two frenchies, we were super worried!”  
"While you're here, Elias, do you know if Maestro started cooking?" Gilles asked as a perfect supervisor.  
“I think he started some stuff, but he was interrupted by the boiler, that acted up again.”  
“I was thinking, we could bring out the Christmas leftovers for our guests.”

Elias' face lit up:  
“Oh, oh, I can totally go and talk him into it.”

The German dashed down the corridor, shoving past Julien, who had timidly stayed away to listen to their conversation without interrupting. Gilles then continued his visit:  
“So you met Elias Kötz, our climatologist scientist. And as you figured, in a relationship with Dominic and Monika.”

Dominic gave them a big smile and pulled out the rainbow flag he had wanted to hide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it :) 
> 
> It was kind of difficult to chose whether to translate or not what Olivier was saying in French, because on the one hand, no one is supposed to understand (except for Julien), but on the other hand, I'm not writing from a first person POV even though I linger a lot around Maxim's mind, and I thought it would be funnier that way. Well, I hope it was a little funny haha§
> 
> See you soon for the next chapters o/


	7. Two can play that game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glance at Maxim's introversion.  
> Timur and him share a... moment.  
> ... and Antarctica is definitely the most LGBTQ+ continent on earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put the foreign language extracts in italics (I generally tried to warn when Max or Tim wouldn't understand)  
> Hope you'll enjoy this one!

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, Iana... Can you repeat that?" Timur exclaimed, theatrically dropping his fork into his plate.

“I was on the International Space Station in 2015 and I'll probably fly back in 2 years if everything goes well” they repeated.

Timur slammed his thigh as he watched Max, who was frankly just as surprised but less demonstrative.

“Wait, wait, so... _you speak our language?”_

Timur had said the last words in Russian. Maxim waited quietly. Iana began to smile, then, gratifying them with a flawless smile, they began to say, in Dostoievsky’s language:

“ _Of course, I speak Russian. It is mandatory when you go on the ISS with the Soyuz. We also train in Russia, Star City and in Siberia to learn how to survive if the capsule crashes in the wrong place_.”

Timur and Maxim were speechless. Iana’s Russian wasn't the most accentuated in the world, but it was definitely decent.

“So, you're an... astronomer?" Timur mumbled.

“Doctor in Geoinformation and astrophysicist by training. I came here to take new measurements of atmospheric turbulence and recalibrate a lot of instruments for the ESA, in addition to monitoring the equipment of the scientists who will return this summer.”

“If it weren’t for this damn storm" Gilles commented "we would have taken you to the observatory. We had beautiful skies the last few days.”

Sitting at the table, a good hot meal composed of foie gras, baguette (real one, yes!), mashed potatoes, roast chicken and small condiments, the atmosphere was warm.

Maxim was feeling weird; it was two exceptional dinners in a row, and these people were so nice to them. From time to time, he would lock himself up in his own thoughts, a little too disturbed by the flood of information, and the English language full of German, Italian and French accents that took him a little further away from home. Each time Timur would give him thoughtful glances, as if to say: "If you don’t feel good, just tell me." But Maxim would just smile slightly back and let him speak for him.

Timur on the other hand was taking it like a fish to water. Socializing with everyone and talking without the slightest restraint. The discussion drifted over Olivier and Gustave’s turbulent love story, the two Frenchmen from the Polar Institute, and Timur could not help but comment:

"I still can't believe it. Antarctica must be the most LGBTQ+ continent in the world. I clearly didn't expect to find so many couples, nonetheless so colorful!  
  
“Well, as for Olivier and I” Doc grumbled “Let me remind you that it's complicated!”  
  
“Seriously, you're still mad at me?” Olivier whined.

“You really don’t realize how irresponsible you were, do you? What if Vostok hadn't been able to send a few guys to come and get your sorry ass out of there! What would we have done? Called an emergency helicopter from Dumont d'Urville? How long would it have taken to get to you? And with the upcoming storm? If Julien hadn't been there to call us and get you out of the vehicle, you wouldn’t have made it!”

Julien tensed, thinking of the accident again, and Gilles, sitting next to him, brought a comforting hand to his neck. The young Frenchman seemed to slightly calm down at this contact:

“The most important thing" Gilles said with his paternal voice "is that everyone is safe and sound. So, let's enjoy this evening and our guests. I think this is the first time that Russians have ever set foot at Concordia. Will they survive up there without you?”  
  
“Oh that should be ok" Timur answered “Let's just hope they don't have any medical emergencies, but even if they do, Sasha, our station manager, knows just about everything.”

“If I may" Finka continued "Sasha better not do anything medical while I'm gone. He would amputate someone for a twisted ankle. I'm not saying he would amputate badly, but let's just say he's not very _fine_ at diagnosing.”

They all started laughing.

“Sasha, that’s the man I radioed?” Gilles asked “I didn't know who to get in touch with, just that Vostok always had permanent overwinterers. I didn't even think I'd get that much help, to be honest. I just told him about the situation, and he immediately said he was sending two of his best guys and his doctor.”

Lera tried to hide the pride she felt with her companion's exemplary behavior.

“That’s Sasha" she confessed “I haven't known him as long as Maxim, but he loves this life and he dreams of a real international Antarctic station, like the ISS. So, if he has the opportunity to help another station, he will always jump at it.”

“Has he been working in Antarctica for a long time?” Elias asked.

“Yes, he has. Almost 25 years. We often joke that the air in the station is 20% oxygen and 80% Senaviev.”

They laughed some more. They all spent a beautiful evening, telling each other their stories of Antarctica, sharing their unlikely lives. All of them were so different and at the same time deeply united by the attraction of the white continent. And this incredible freedom, far from the judgmental and political society. They too at Concordia lived like a small family.

Maxim didn't speak much. He answered a few words when he was asked a question, or to correct some information about Vostok, when Lera or Timur were wrong. But on the whole, he listened, and merely listening and being with so many people at the same time was enough to drain him of his energy. It is often said that the difference between an extrovert and an introvert is that an extrovert gets their energy from social contact, while an introvert gets their energy from isolation. Maxim was experiencing this.

Not that he didn't appreciate these people. But he was just exhausted, from the long and intense day, but also from all this social contact, although enjoyable. Timur seemed to notice it, when he glanced at him with a worried look again, and he finally took the lead:

"Well, that was really nice, thank you again for this delicious meal, but I think we’ll head for our beds now, we have a long road ahead, tomorrow.”

“Of course, you must be exhausted!” Gilles replied as he got up from his chair “I’ll show you your rooms and the bathroom if you need to take a shower. I've also picked up some clothes for you to sleep in.”

_An hour later..._

Timur walked past Maxim's door, a towel around his neck, cleanly out of the shower. He saw Max sitting on the bottom bunk bed, stooped over a map, a notebook beside him. He seemed focused, but... tense. Timur walked into the narrow space that consisted of his room and came to him:

“What are you looking at?" he asked.  
  
“The road for tomorrow. It shouldn't be too complicated, but I want to make sure that I have everything in mind and that we've ruled out the slightest risk, we don’t want to get caught in a crevasse too. Gilles gave me the details of the surrounding relief.”  
  
“You’re anxious?”  
  
“A little bit. It's not a path regularly used like the road from Mirny, so we will have to be cautious even if there are no apparent risks.”

Timur came closer and put both hands on Maxim's shoulders, and began to gently massage his muscles. A sound halfway between a grunt and a groan roared down Maxim's throat and Timur asked him:  
  
“Is it okay? I mean... can I touch you?”  
  
“Hmmmm”  
  
“Do you understand why I asked you to marry me when you gave me that massage, back then?" Timur laughed gently.  
  
“I think I do”

Maxim, curious to see Timur's naughty smile, turned slightly to look at him. And immediately was surprised by Timur's perfectly shaved beard tips:

“Did you shave?!”  
  
“Man, Dominic lent me his great, state-of-the-art German razor, I couldn't say no.”  
  
“Huh, don't get used to their luxury” Maxim snickered.  
  
“I don't know, it's very nice here” Timur teased.

Maxim felt a hint of jealousy and frowned, pouting. Timur pressed the tip of his index finger on Maxim's sulky cheek, poking the soft skin:

“Come on, I'm kidding. I love our snowy dacha with our old sofa and my favorite Basuda.”

Maxim sighed:  
“You seemed really comfortable back there. You're very sociable. Being isolated and in small number in Vostok, it really doesn't scare you?”

“Does it seem to have bothered me so far?”

“Winter has barely begun. And I wonder... what if you realized that it didn't suit you?”

“I like to think that we'll find our balance. And that as long as we tell each other everything and find inventive answers together, then we won't have any unpleasant surprises. And you say that, as if you don't receive anyone in summer in Vostok. If I really miss new faces, I will always have some available ones at that moment, heh”

“Every time I tell you about my doubts... I feel like you have reassuring answers for everything. How can you be so optimistic?”

Timur shrugged as he continued to massage Maxim:

“I just want to believe in it, that's all. And I... I _really like_ you, so that helps. I told you before, but it all makes sense to me. I had a puzzle piece, I didn't know where to put it, which puzzle it belonged to. And I found it.”

Maxim rolled his eyes when he heard the cheesy metaphor; he growled and encircled Timur with his arms, pushing him backwards and falling on top of him, on the mattress, nuzzling his head in his neck. Timur hiccupped with surprise and let out a small laugh.

“You and your god damn positivity" Maxim grumbled.  
“Someone has to see the glass half full here!" Timur reproached him in an amused tone.

Timur closed his arms around Maxim, who was crushing him with almost all his weight in this improvised bear hug.

After several minutes of cuddling, Timur had to reluctantly confess to him:

"Max, you're crushing me a little.”

Maxim raised his head, his cheeks red and his eyes misty, and let his gaze linger on Timur's lips. Timur stopped breathing when he realized this, and shamefully felt the blood flowing south. Maxim was so close, his warm breath on his skin, their noses almost touching. Maxim caressed his cheek with his fingertips, very gently, barely touching him and tickling the tiny fuzz of his skin. He seemed to analyze Timur, to analyze his cheekbones, his muscles, his little invisible scars, and...

After a few seconds that seemed like a pleasant eternity, Maxim smiled - Timur had already mentioned how terribly adorable Maxim was when he smiled? - and put a wet kiss on Timur's forehead, before suddenly standing up and putting away his map. Timur, as red as a tomato, crossed his legs to hide his erection, and getting up from bed, passed a hand through his short hair:

“I'm... I'm going to bed now. See you tomorrow?”

Maxim looked at him with a sneaky little smirk and winked at him.  
Timur swallowed his saliva, caught in his own game of seduction.  
“Sweet dreams, Glazkov.”

_Two can play that game._

Maxim woke up in the middle of the night, thirsty. He usually always had a bottle of water near him in Vostok when he slept, because of the dry air of the station (and Antarctica in general) and hadn't thought about it before going to bed at Concordia. He slowly got up from his bunk and walked out of his room, a few glimmers lighting up the hallway just enough to make his way down to the dining room.

Obviously, he wasn't the only one wandering the hallways that night, as he heard voices coming from the table where they had eaten. He kept a low profile, sticking to the wall to avoid being spotted:

_"I just... I miss her so much.”_

_“Vostok is what she has always dreamed of.”_

_“I know, babe, I know. And I'm happy for her too. She must be having a lot of fun, knowing her... But she's so independent, sometimes I can't help but... well, I know she loves us, it's a fact, she has nothing to prove, but sometimes I feel like she could go 3 years without seeing us, and I don't know how she does it, and I know I wouldn't be able to do it personally, and... and I'm glad you're here. I don't know what I would do without you.“_

Maxim heard a kissing sound. Elias continued:

_“That’s how she is. We both knew what we were getting into. The most important thing, as you say, is that you know in your heart that she loves us deeply, with her own heart, with her difference. That she doesn't show it the way most people show it, that's normal, because she is different. But at the same time, isn't it great to know that she loves us without that specific need to show it? I mean, she loves us unconditionally, no matter how long and how far we are from her.”_

_“Yes, she does. That's why I have no doubt that she loves us.”_

_“And me, you know that I love you, right?”_

_“Elias... “_

This time, it was not one, but a succession of kissing sounds that went all the way up to Maxim's ears. Then the rustle of clothes rubbing against each other, then moans absorbed by half-open mouths and-

Maxim decided that he would go to the bathroom for a glass of water. They had told him that the water was safe to drink. Gently walking up the stairs so as not to make any noise, he readjusted his pajama pants, realizing that he had not been totally physically indifferent to the loving sounds of the two Germans. Rushing to the small bathroom, he helped himself to a glass of water and drank, then splashed some water on his face. After wiping it with a soft towel, he left the bathroom and on the way to his room he almost caught his feet in Julien's slippers. They were placed in front of Gilles' bedroom door, facing Maxim’s…

_Antarctica the most LGTBQ+ continent in the world he said._

Turning his eyes away, he went to his room, closing the too thin door that didn't stifle enough the French conversation in the room opposite.

_“Julien, I was just worried. Nobody blames you.”_

_“It's just that... if you had seen the diesel in the snow... it was horrible... and it was our fault. Why can't we just explore and study a natural environment properly? Even in space they dirty the whole orbit with rocket waste and... and if underneath that snow there was a secret essential to the development of life and... ”_

_“Shhh shhh Julien. Where's your optimism? If the secret of life is here, in Antarctica, we will find it. And it will surely be buried much deeper than a few centimeters from the surface.”_

_“What if there were penguin eggs underneath?”_

_“Have you ever seen a penguin around here?”_

_“No. But what if we had just dirtied a land that was destined to receive the first eggs of an evolved species of penguins?”_

_“Julien, Julien... They have a whole continent. They'll find another place and it's even another species that would be born there! Life has always found an intelligent way to make its path on this earth, and it always will. And once more, it wasn't your fault. Had you known this was going to happen, you would have done things differently, right?”_

Julian sniffed in response.

_"Here, come on, come into my arms... my Julien, you're much too kind for our world.”_

The tears fell silent, quietness returned, and Maxim fell asleep, lonelier than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it.
> 
> I couldn't help but making small detours by the other Concordia's relationships ^^'  
> I may well dedicate some one-shots to them, once I've finished The piece to my puzzle, I just love writing about love u_u
> 
> I also officially finished all the drafts for this fic (ending on CH15), so no risks it gets abandoned :)  
> Hope you'll enjoy the next chapters o/  
> xoxox


	8. That continent that makes us free.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuhrat is a pain in the neck.  
> Max gets cold.  
> And everyone wants to put Tim and Max together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter o/ I don't have much time to proofread as much as I would like to, so I'm sorry for any oddities.  
> Hope you'll enjoy this chapter, though.

"So, how was Concordia?!” Shuhrat exclaimed.

“Wait, let us strip down a little" Max puffed.

“Uh-uh, so did you guys finally get down to business?”

Finka rolled her eyes and rushed into the station to put away the medical equipment. Shuhrat, not satisfied with the silence he was getting, insisted:

"Just tell me you didn't stop at foreplay, at least.”

Maxim threw his ushanka at his face, and the Uzbek burst out laughing.

“Don't you have anything better to do, you cockroach?!" Maxim grumbled “I warn you, if there was the slightest problem in our absence, you're 100% responsible.”

“Relax Max. Nothing happened. The storm was a bit rough on the runway, but we finished clearing it and other than that, nothing too problematic. I'm going to throw some coffee; you must be exhausted from the day's drive.”

“Pretty much" Timur replied.

Shuhrat winked at them and went to the kitchen.

“ _Home sweet home_ , as they say, huh?" Timur laughed.

“One of these days I'm really going to gag him and tie him up to a pole" Maxim threatened “And I'm pretty GOOD at that kind of stuff.”

“Oh... Well, we learn something new every day" Timur purred in a lustful voice.

Maxim began to blush violently, realizing what he had just said:

“But I wasn't talking about that!”

“That's still good to know.”

Maxim changed his strategy. He threw off his parka and came dangerously close to Timur, who instinctively stepped back and soon found himself pushed to the wall. Maxim leaned over him and mischievously whispered:

“I could show you, if you want.”

Timur swallowed his saliva and this time he was the one who ended up as red as a beetroot. Maxim then pulled Timur’s beanie over his eyes and laughed, getting rid of his boots.

“Aouch! You're really the worst!" Timur whimpered.

Shuhrat's voice could be heard at the other end of the corridor:

“When you've finished, Chip ‘n’ Dale, coffee’s is ready! Monika can’t wait to hear about your adventure.”

“Yeah, yeah, we're coming!" Maxim replied.

They finished putting their things away and went to the kitchen. Shuhrat was majestically waiting for them at his table, their coffee cups placed in front of him, and Monika was standing in a corner, biting her purple nails. Shuhrat invited them in a royal hand gesture to sit down. Maxim rolled his eyes and Timur laughed. Monika then came to sit down, but she seemed more tense than amused.

“So, what was it like?" Shuhrat asked “Did you eat _baaaguette_ and _spaghetti_?”

“Well, yes we indeed ate some baguette. They were very nice and treated us very well!" Timur began “The two Frenchmen to be rescued were called Julien and Olivier, one is a rather young and adorable glaciologist scientist, the other a daredevil engineer who already knew Lera from a season on Dumont d'Urville, the big coastal French station, you know.”

“But there was no Italian?” Shuhrat asked, almost with disappointment.

“I'm getting there, I'm getting there, just wait! There were 9 of them in total for the winter, I was quite astonished; Gilles, their station manager who has been at Concordia since its creation in 2005, explained to me that, just like us, they were downsized for budgetary reasons. Anyway, they were 4 Frenchmen, Julien the glaciologist, Olivier the engineer, Doc the... uh... doctor, and Gilles the station manager. Then, there were two Italians, Maestro, the chief technician, whose real name I don’t remember, and Aria, the communications engineer. But they also had for this season other European staff, including Iana, a Dutch astronaut and doctor in geoinformation, and two Germans... “

Monika stopped breathing. Timur smiled and looked her in the eyes:

"Dominic and Elias, I think you know them Monika, don't you?”

She began to blush, and Shuhrat exclaimed:

“Wait a minute, isn't he your boyfriend? Which one again... Dominic or Elias? Wait, both of them? Is one of them your ex-boyfriend? Or are they twins and...?”

Timur gave Monika the choice of whether to expose her life choice or not. She whispered:

“They're both my... partners. We're... a couple... a polyamorous couple.”

Shuhrat opened his big Asian eyes:

“This is freaking awesome! What is this super LGBTQ+ continent?!”

Everybody started laughing, Timur continued:

“They're doing fine, Monika. I understood that Dominic missed you a lot, but Elias seemed to be there for him, and they seemed to love each other very much. I guess it helps to be together, even if they are missing a key person.”

Monika almost had tears in her eyes, but tried to preserve her usual cold expression:

“I miss them a lot too. And knowing Dominic... I knew he would have a hard time. I'm sorry to do this to him. Elias must have a lot on his shoulders... “

“If it makes you feel better" Timur continued "they spoke very highly of you, they were proud and didn't blame you for wanting to go to Vostok. They know how important it is for you and they respect it.”

Monika sighed and shook her head:

“My God, I love them so much... they're perfect... “

“And they gave me um... two T-shirts of their own. They said you'd appreciate it.”

She blushed.

“I... um... that's nice, thank you. And did they seem happy? I know there's a great observatory at Concordia, Elias must be super happy, right?”

“Yeah, pretty much. They both seemed to really like it there. But you know, when Shuhrat said that we were on a super LGBTQ+ continent... erf I don't think you have any idea how much that was the case haha”

“What do you mean?!” Shuhrat asked, curious.

“It was kind of funny, but when we arrived, everyone was trying to hide things, we didn't understand why. Dominic, for example, was hiding a huge rainbow flag when we walked past their bunks. So, we explained to them that we clearly didn't have any problem with that, and then boom, what don't we find out! Doc and Olivier were a couple. Elias and Dominic in couple with you. Iana non-binary. And I think that there was definitely something between Gilles and Julien, what did you think, Max?”

“I think that they indeed appreciated each other a little more than the average” Maxim confirmed soberly.

Shuhrat's jaw dropped.

“Does this continent make us gay or what?”

“I rather think this continent makes us free.”

_One week later..._

As it turned out, Shuhrat had been _a little_ optimistic about the storm's damage report, since a week later one of the main radio antennas broke down and damaged another in its fall, as the winds rose rapidly. They had been on the verge of disaster when one of the electrical circuits sparked and almost set fire to the other components, but the lack of fuel saved them.

Maxim was exhausted. He had spent a considerable amount of time outside in the freezing polar night, first with Sasha and Timur, and even Emmanuelle had come to help them. Then Timur had to leave urgently to help Shuhrat and Marius at the drill building, because of another breakdown which caused a dangerous overheating. Then Lera called Sasha for an emergency call from Mirny and soon Maxim found himself alone with Emmanuelle. The young French woman pleasantly surprised him; they had not interacted much - rather paradoxical considering they lived together - and he discovered that besides being a chemist, she was also a real handywoman.

The day was intense, starting in the polar night, ending in the blue twilight, without the slightest trace of sunshine. When Maxim saw the first aurora australis, he knew it was very late. But at least they had been able to repair the antennas. When he returned to the station, he was cold, he could no longer feel his nose or corrugator muscles and his eyes were completely dry. Removing his big boots and thick parka, he felt his nose drip despite the dryness of his nostrils, wiping it with the back of his gloved hand, he noticed a small trail of blood.

“Damn that fucking dry air of fucking f-" he grumbled.

“Max?”

Lera had been walking down the corridor and had heard him grumbling.

“Are you okay?" she worried.

“Yeah, I'm just bleeding a little bit from my nose.”

“Any other worries?”

“No, it must be the dryness in the air. And the cold, I can't feel half my face.”

“I told you to come back inside and take some breaks.”

“And I did.”

“Not enough.”

“I'm fine, Lera.”

“That's for me to decide. You're not hypothermic?”

“I don’t think so. I was well covered. I'm not shaking any more than usual. Everything normal. But I wouldn't refuse some eyedrops, if you have that.”

“Of course, I have that, Maxim. Go get warm and eat, Shuhrat's made some plov. And when you gradually get back to a decent temperature, go take a hot shower. “

“Yes, Sergeant Melnikova.”

“Lieutenant. I was a Lieutenant, Maxim.”

They exchanged a smile, and then they went their separate ways. Maxim cleared his throat, and it felt like scraping terracotta; he was so thirsty. Rushing into the kitchen, he ran into Monika and Marius, who were talking while serving themselves a cup of herbal tea. Marius turned towards him:

"Maxim, are you all right? You look like a ghost.”

“Yeah, I'm just slammed. “

He walked past them to first help himself to two large glasses of water, almost dropping the glass from his exhausted hands, then went to grab a plate and fill it with the still warm plov.

"Howdo... How did it go at the drill?” he asked.

“It ended well, but we were very scared. There was a big overheat and the damage could have been catastrophic, but Shuhrat and Timur were able to safely shut it down and find the problem. Man, I would have looked like an idiot if we had broken the legendary Vostok drill.”

“Well, they do drilling in other stations, don't they?”

“Yes, they do, _but..._ Want some company while you eat?”

“No, thank you. I’ll just have a quick bite then hit the showers.”

Marius and Monika raised their mugs as a sign of good evening, and Maxim went to a table in the living space to eat. Putting his plate down, he realized that a few feet away, Timur was asleep on the couch with an open book on his chest. Maxim watched him from his seat, silently chewing the perfectly seasoned pieces of meat and gazing at his sleeping face, black eyelashes and baby skin.

And it was this moment that his body chose to noisily drop his fork from his hands. Timur was startled and almost broke his face when he fell off the couch, but caught himself just in time.

"M-Max?”

“Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up.”

“Ah but I wasn't sleeping.”

Maxim would have raised a dubious eyebrow if his facial muscles weren't completely numb.

"...not for a long time?” continued Timur.

He got up, closed his book and put it away in the library. He moved to sit next to Maxim:

"Are you okay?" he asked him. “You're white as a sheet.”

“You're the third person to tell me this, I'm going to start thinking it's a conspiracy.”

“It's just that... you've been out there a very long time today.”

“I came back inside to take some breaks.”

“I know, I know, but still.”

“I was well covered.”

“It was -65°C today.”

“As I was saying” Maxim puffed, exhausted “I was inside. “

Timur sighed and rubbed his damaged pupil. Maxim had noticed that Timur often did this when he was nervous. He had never made the remark, though, for fear that it might be related to something too unpleasant to force, something that might come naturally in a conversation. Maxim searched for his eyes:

"Hey, it's okay, don't worry. I'm eating, safe and here, aren't I?”

“Have you seen Lera?”

“Yes, I saw her. She was supposed to give me some eyedrops, my eyes are itchy because of d- thr- the throu- the drought, but maybe she came across a wild Shasha on her way, hehe.”

Timur looked at him with big wide eyes:

“Maxim... Did you just make a joke?”

“Oh, come on.”

Timur put his hand on Maxim's forehead as if to check that he didn't have a fever, but Max stretched away from it, nonchalantly.

“I’m okay, really" he insisted.

“Hmm. I hope that tomorrow we won't have any more bad surprises, at least they didn't forecast strong winds tonight, that’s something, I guess. You’ll probably be able to rest a little.”

“ _C'est la vie_ " Maxim shrugged, using the famous French phrase.

Timur looked at him, gaping once again in shock:

“And now what, you speak French?! That's it, I'm going to get Lera!”

As if on command, Maxim lost control of his fork, and Timur rushed into the corridor before Maxim could dissuade him. He sighed. He was okay, he was still thinking straight, and… okay, he still couldn't feel his nose, and his hands were still numb, but he was in his right mind.

Lera and Timur hurried back into the room, Finka had her first aid kit and came and sat down in front of Maxim with authority. She took out an electronic thermometer and stuck it to Maxim's forehead, who knew better than to resist. Timur stood behind Lera and rubbed his pupil.

“In the meantime, pronounce for me: _Six thick thistle sticks_ " Lera ordered.

Maxim rolled his eyes, but she glared at him, so he tried:

“Thix Thick Stisle Thicks.”

Timur facepalmed and Lera sighed:

“Well, better and better, Basuda.“

And as if that wasn't enough, the little beep of the thermometer sealed his fate:

“34.1°C, congratulations Maxim!" Lera sarcastically said “Always playing tough guys, and that's what you won, a fine hypothermia. Go and sit on the couch right now, with the blankets and your plate, let me take your blood pressure and check for any frostbites. Timur, go make him some tea. And then get your pretty ass over here to... share some of your body heat.”

Maxim and Timur looked at her with indignation.  
Lera had a devilish smirk on her face.

_About twenty minutes later…_

“This whole continent wants to put us together" Maxim grumbled.

Timur was curled up against him, and Maxim's heart was beating fast. And not just because of hypothermia and the slow warming of his body.

“Can you blame them? Just admit that we would look good together?”

Maxim growled. Timur hitched a small laugh under the blanket and rubbed his pupil again. Maxim took his wrist and pulled it gently:

“Don't scratch your eye, you'll get irritated.”

“Sorry, old reflex.”

“I’ve noticed. That's where your iris is cracked.”

“Oh, so you did notice... “

“You want to tell me about it?”

Timur sighed, but went straight to it:

“In Chechnya. I had to cover a commando, they just had to secure a building that the recon team had identified as empty... but it turned out to be an ambush. I had to fire more than expected, faster than expected, they were getting decimated. I got a little bit messy and I got stunned by the recoil of my rifle. I was the only one to make it. Getting knocked out by my own rifle made me put my head down on the right moment, and when I came around, I ran like a fool to the nearest outpost. And they immediately sent the tanks to roll over what was left of the city.”

“And you think about that every time you scratch your eye?”

“I don't especially notice it when I do. I've been told it's probably stress-related. You know, when you're stressed, and your unconscious is making the connection with other big stressful moments in your life.”

“So... you were stressed… about me?”

“Of course, you really looked like shit, you know”.

“Thank you.”

Timur laughed and moved closer to Maxim, tucking his face in the crook of his neck. He asked, however:

“Is it okay?”

“Hm?” Max mumbled.

“The touching, I mean?”

“I could get used to it.”

Timur smiled and went back to his position. Max released his arm and hesitantly wrapped it around Timur's waist, holding him tight. He closed his eyes. He was warm. He had Timur.

He felt good.

After a few minutes, which seemed like a few seconds, he was woken up by a gentle pat on the shoulder. Opening his groggy eyes, he blinked his eyelids until he could see Sasha's familiar face. He whispered:

"Go to bed, it’ll be more comfortable.”

Maxim then realized that he still had Timur huddled against him, his arm still wrapped around him, keeping him close, on the sofa. Sasha gently tapped Timur's shoulder and in turn woke him up whispering:

"Tim, it's me. Get into bed, you're going to break your back here.”

Tim opened his blue eyes veiled with fatigue and let himself be guided. Maxim wasn't in any better shape, and he almost slumped down on his bed. Timur crawled back to his spot against him and Sasha draped them in a thick, warm comforter. The light went out quickly, and Maxim thought he heard the rustle of Sasha's comforter on the bed across the street, when he fell back to sleep with Timur against him. Warm. Soft. Tender. Where he belonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :) 
> 
> Funfact: I first started writing this chapter with Maxim getting a pneumonia or a winterish disease, but I realized half-way that you couldn't get the viruses or bacterias causing those diseased in Antarctica haha   
> So I went for a light-moderated hypothermia. Just because it was simply impossible to write a romantic fanfic in Antarctica without some "SHARING BODY HEAT" episode hahaha
> 
> Hope you liked it. Don't hesitate to leave a comment.  
> Next chapter will be a darker @.@


	9. Эй, братец

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is going well between Max and Tim...  
> So why does Max still have a mental block?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly darker chapter. I hope you'll enjoy it.  
> Sry for any mistake / weird phrasing.

Maxim woke up thanks to his body clock, used to regularity. He could hear a few dull noises coming from the kitchen, and the poorly closed door let a vertical line of yellowish light from the corridor pass through. He was about to get up when he became aware of the weight that kept him in bed. Tim was still there, peacefully sleeping against him, his cheek pressed against his collarbone, his warm breath tickling his Adam's apple, his legs intertwined with his own. Maxim was immediately filled by emotion, seeing this. Removing an arm from the nest of comforters, he could not help letting his fingers graze the face of the youngest.

He wanted to kiss him. He was only a few centimeters away. Perhaps he wouldn't even notice? He wanted to run a finger over his stretched lips, stroking them and measuring their tenderness, and that little furrow that drew his very slight cupid's bow. He wanted to caress him, caress his temples, his cheekbones and his whole face, slide a hand along his neck and go down to explore and caress this masculine and muscular body. Like the first day he saw him, he wanted to put his hands on his hips, bring him closer to him, stick to him as if to merge with him while his hands would explore his rounded buttocks and in the crack of-

_FUCK._

Maxim hadn’t realized sooner, but in his boxer shorts, his desire was pointing out in its _raw state_. He was perfectly straight and hard, far from the small morning erections he’s been having from time to time. No, right now, he was closer to his embarrassing Concordia hard-on that he still hoped he had managed to hide from Timur. He was dying to rub himself against him, between his buttocks, against his own-

_That’s enough, get up!_ he scolded himself.

Using all his willpower, he gently detached himself from Timur, trying not to wake him up. He retrieved his sweatshirt, then his shower things, trying not to wake Shuhrat and Marius on the way, and rushed silently into the corridor. He sighed, passing by the kitchen and ignoring the tempting smell of hot coffee, and went to the other end of the station in the small shower room. And to think that there once had been a sauna outside in the 90s and today they were reduced to an old, barely functional pipe system.

At least the fresh water would do him some good, if it didn’t have time to heat up. In his Soviet shower, Maxim took a deep breath, but every time he closed his eyes to clear his head, his unconscious mind would scroll through a kaleidoscope of Timurs.

Facing him as he did on the first day.

Lying half on top of him, like on the couch.

Lying under him, like at Concordia.

Lying against him, like last night.

And every time, that blue, tender, loving look. That sunny smile, that naughty sarcasm, and his shapely muscles and his well-rounded butt-

Maxim grumbled, rubbing severely his skin with soap. He was still a little sore in some places, having come close to severe frostbites the day before, when he had been emptying his mind outside, trying to keep his volcano of emotions under control in one of the coldest places on the planet.

Getting out of the shower, he wiped himself off and put on his clothes for the day. He walked to the kitchen, hoping to grab a good coffee and start an eventful day.

There he found Sasha, who was preparing a giant omelet for the little family that was still sleeping. Max grabbed the coffee pot and helped himself to a generous cup.

"Hi Max!”

“Hey.”

“Slept well?”

“Fine.”

Max went to sit at a table and Sasha’ gaze followed him with an unconvinced look.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing, everything's fine. I slept well.”

“Is that what's wrong? That you slept well?”

Max could see what Sasha was doing, he was trying to worm it out of him.

“Let me drink my coffee, first.”

“Would you like to come and clear the runway with me?”

Max knew that he was going to end up talking anyway. The question for Sasha was simply where and when, and in this case, he was offering him a place separate from the others, where no one could hear them, just the two of them.

“Why not.”

Sasha gave him a smile:

“That’s my Basuda.”

When one by one the rest of the team woke up, they came to have breakfast and chat. This is precisely the moment that Maxim and Sasha chose to sneak out to clear the runway. Maxim put on his big red parka, the one from the Russian Federation's Antarctic program, and followed Sasha to the snowplow. They settled in and after a few grumbles, the engine set off. Right before starting, Sasha leaned on the steering wheel and looked at Maxim:

"What's wrong?”

“I don't know, I'm scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Everything. Scared that he'll leave. Scared to get attached. Scared of disappointing him. Scared of missing the train.”

“But you love him?”

“I think I do, yes. But that too... um... “

“What’s wrong?”

“I've never been with a man. And I don't know how to do it. I've never really talked about it either, so I'm afraid to mess it too. “

“How long have you known? That you like men? You slipped it into a conversation two years ago when Shuhrat was struggling with his homosexuality and his religion, but you never really... talked about it again.”

“It's nothing new to me. But just that... I mean, I knew I liked men more than women when I enrolled. Seeing that I had no attraction for women, but that, on the contrary, I was much more able to project what is usually reserved for women... to men. I drew my conclusions. But in the army, of course, I never talked about it. So, I kept it to myself, it didn't hurt anyone, and in any case, I was convinced that I would never find anyone. Especially after... well, you know.”

“After Beslan?”

Maxim nodded silently.

“Does he know, Timur? About Beslan?”

“No, he doesn't.”

“You’re going to tell him?”

“I don't know.”

“If it makes you feel better, it's normal if you don't feel ready yet.”

“In fact, it's very paradoxical. I don't want this nightmare to define me, I don't want _to need_ to talk about it, but at the same time... “

“It's so much a part of your life and the choices you've made that you don't see how you can _not talk_ about it?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it...”

“I have the same thing with Afghanistan, and the First Chechen War. I hate to think about it, I often try to convince myself that it was in another life, or even someone else's life. And at the same time, that's where I come from, that's where most of my fractures were born, and that's been my life for years... and even if it means exposing my vulnerabilities, at least I'm transparent and I don't feel like I'm lying or hiding something from Lera.”

Maxim didn't respond, lowering his eyes and twisting his fingers through his gloves.  
Then Sasha put a hand on his shoulder:

"Max. You are my brother, you know that, right? I've already told you, but I really want you to know: you went through something horrible and traumatic; but _you survived_ , and your survival instinct led you to this new life. And today, you are where you belong. You _deserve_ that place and all the good things that happen to you. You have not deserted, and you are not weak. You fought. You did your best. You gave your body and your soul. The wounds that were inflicted on you, they will always be there, but healed, scarred. So, let life take care of you now and grant you the rest you deserve. No matter what happens with Timur, whether it works or not, live without remorse, and _receive_ , because you deserve it and you have been giving enough.”

Max's jaw tightened. He lowered his head and Sasha started the snowplow.  
 _The mechanical roar muffled the rare sobs that Maxim was so ashamed of_.

Sasha's words had resonated in Maxim's mind for a long time, for several weeks, as winter slowly passed. Sometimes he felt the need to isolate himself, despite the extreme temperatures, but just a few minutes of absolute solitude helped him to listen to his soul, his heart and secretly check if his wounds had indeed healed.

For 10 years, he thought he had scarred.

For 5 years, he thought he had fully healed.

And today, he didn't know what to think anymore.

Talking again with Sasha, everything had come back as if it had happened the day before. Chechnya... Beslan. As soon as he closed his eyes, he could feel the explosion again, the plaster on his face, the dust in his mask, the screams of the children, the bullets fired at innocent people. It was over. He had come out of it. He had managed to save some. Colleagues, innocent people, children. But how many had died in that mass grave?

"You survived.” "You haven’t deserted”. "You fought.” Sasha's words hammered the evidence that guilt was trying to stifle. Maxim knew, that he had done his best. He knew it wasn't his guns that had shot the children. He knew that he was not the one who decided to take an entire school hostage and equip innocent people with explosive belts. He knew that he was not the problem in this story. But there always comes that "what if". What if they had done things differently?

And then again, Maxim had only obeyed orders. When the explosion detonated, his commander shouted at them to jump at the opportunity, enter the building and go after the terrorists. But they had lacked information, intelligence, and innocent people had died.

"You haven’t deserted”. "You fought.” "You did your best.” "You gave your body and soul." That was true. He had done his best. He had given everything. And he would gladly have traded his life for those of these innocent people.

"Let life take care of you now and grant you the rest you deserve." "Receive, because you deserve it and you have been giving enough.” Sasha's last words resonated more than others because they reminded him of his individuality. They reminded him that he was human, underneath his spetsnaz layer. Something that he had long suppressed in the depths of his unconscious, because how could he complain and cry about his past, when hundreds of people had lost their lives?

Sasha had made him understand that it was finally time for him to rest and let go of the past that would always be a part of him. It was time for him to relearn how to live, without the guilt that others had lost their lives. To live for him. Making peace with his trauma and his survivor syndrome.

He had to talk to Timur about it. It was getting necessary.

" **MAXIM** **!!!!** ” Sasha’s voice shouted at him.

He felt his cheek burning, opening his eyes with alertness. He was in the middle of a spasm. Why was he having spasms?

"Max, can you hear me?! Max look at me!”

Sasha's big warm hands held his temples and forced him to look at him. But his face was half charred, and Maxim began to fall in delirium again. Maxim instinctively looked to his right for Timur's body, which wasn't there. He was gone. In the building?!

"Tim?! Where is Tim?!!! He went into the building that exploded?!” Maxim cried.

“Max you're having a nightmare! We're in Vostok, Antarctica!”

Maxim couldn't understand what Sasha was saying to him through his damaged face. And the noise of the Kalashnikovs was deafening and way too close, and the children’s screams tearing reality.

Maxim tried to rush out of his bed but Sasha leaned with all his weight (and he was heavy) to hold him against the mattress. Maxim began to struggle like a rabid beast and another pair of arms came to hold him to the bed, he thought he could see Shuhrat's worried face, full of white plaster and blood running down his temples..

“Where is Timur?!" Max shouted.

“Lera, the sedative!!!” Sasha shouted “We can't calm him down and he's going hurt himself!”

Suddenly the dorm door opened and Timur ran as if his life depended on it.

"I heard screams, what's going on?!”

“Max is having a PTSD attack!" Sasha explained, dodging a punch from Max.

Timur ran up and pressed his cool hands on Maxim's cheeks.

“Max, it's Tim, can you hear me?”

“Tim?! Were you in the building?”

“I was in the bathroom, Max.”

“In the bathroom?! During the assault?! What the is wrong with you?!”

“There's no assault, Max, I was in the bathroom at the station. We're in Vostok, remember?”

“Vostok? What's Vostok? I wasn't told about Vostok. You mean Zarya? The extraction zone?”

“No, Vostok in Antarctica, Maxim. Above subglacial lake Vostok. Do you know where Antarctica is, Max?”

“What the hell are we doing in fucking Antarctica?!”

“It's over, Maxim. We're working in Antarctica now.”

“The war... is over?”

“Yes, and now we're in Antarctica, working with scientists in the Vostok station. We are safe. There is no war here.”

Maxim seemed to gradually come to his senses. Timur caressed his sweaty forehead and looked at him tenderly.

“Still need the sedative?” Shuhrat asked, slowly loosening his grip on Maxim.

“I think he’ll be okay for now" Finka whispered.

Maxim raised one of his hands and Sasha let go of it. He touched Timur's face, as if to verify that he was real, and Timur kissed his fingers as they passed his lips. Max took his hand away but sighed with relief.

“It's okay, you're with us, now?" Tim asked.

“I think so. What time is it?”

“4AM. You can go back to sleep.”

Max wanted to protest, but Timur pushed him against the pillow and went back to his usual spot against him. Max instinctively squeezed his arms around him like a child with his stuffed toy. Shuhrat and Sasha quietly moved aside and returned to their beds.

“Y-You're not leaving, are you?" Max mumbled.

“No, I'm staying right here. But I hope it won’t happen every time I go to pee.”

“Sorry...“ Maxim murmured.

Timur tightened his hug and Maxim ended up on his side, lying as the little spoon, Timur trying to cover him as best he could with his whole body and the thick comforter.

“Hey, don't apologize, it's not your fault. Besides, it gives me more excuses to hug you.”

Maxim drifted back to sleep in peace. A warm breath caressing his neck. Loving arms. Safe and secure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) 
> 
> I honestly didn't think I'd devote a whole chapter to Max's PTSD, it was more supposed to be a sub-chapter thing, but it wrote itself. I tried not to make the Beslan part too graphic and hope it was okay.  
> \+ chapter's name is Эй, братец because I was listening to various Hey Brother covers while writing the dialog between Sasha and Maxim.
> 
> See you very soon for brighter events :3


	10. Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Maxim's birthday o/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this one will make you smile a bit :)  
> Sry for any mistake or weird phrasing.

Weeks went by. Time seemed to be completely suspended. Aristotle would say that time was the number of change with respect to the before and after... so how could you be aware of the days that passed when you started and ended them in the polar night, without any change in the landscape, without an ounce of sunlight to tell you: yup, this is another day, you can cross it on your calendar?

However, it wasn’t unpleasant for some of them. Maxim preferred a thousand times this suspended time, and this enclosed air, the icy winds rustling outside, brothers and sisters with him, rather than life in Russia. The isolation and constant contact had sparked off a few arguments, but nothing too serious. Sasha and Lera had argued over a misunderstanding. Marius had upset Shuhrat for a trifle. Monika and Emma had quarreled over a pot of coffee. That was also part of the life of a winterer in Antarctica.

Maxim had got up earlier than the others, as always. Only Sasha got up earlier than him. This was usually followed by Monika and Emma, then Timur, Marius and Shuhrat. He didn't have much to do that day, and _knew that he wouldn't have much to do anyway_. Unless there was an accident or an emergency. He got dressed, showered, had his coffee and started a 2000-piece puzzle on the living room table.

He heard noise and activity in the kitchen, a sign that the rest of the team had woken up and was having breakfast. And of course, 5 minutes later, Timur appeared in the living room, still in his pajamas: a white cotton t-shirt, his black sweatshirt and grey joggings. He went to Max, who hadn't moved from his chair, and put his arms around his neck, nestling his head in the hollow.

“Well, hello there" Max laughed, caressing Tim’s forearm with his fingertips.

“Hmmm I was cold this morning. Why do you have to get up so early?”

“Princess Timur and his Bellingshausen habits.”

“Do you know what day it is today, Max?”

Max sighed; he had dreaded this moment, and at the same time he was rather amused:

“Of course, I know what day it is. May 14th. Outside temperature, -80°C.”

“Hm... wrong answer" Timur whispered, tightening his arms around Max's shoulders.

Tightening _much too strongly_.   
Max was almost immobilized.   
_What the fu-_

The light in the living room went out and Sasha began to sing at the top of his lungs, followed by the others:

"Happy Birthday to youuuuuu!”

Max understood the conspiracy. He wanted to get up and flee somewhere, bury his head in his hands, but Timur was holding him firmly in his chair.

“I'm so going to kill you all" Max grumbled.

The others laughed and put a plain cake with candles on the table.

“Now make a wish and blow!" Timur whispered to him.

“I wish to kill you all.”

“Shhh, you mustn't say it out loud.”

Max was red with embarrassment. He knew that every year Sasha and Shuhrat always found an ingenious way to trick him into celebrating his birthday, and the worst part was that he knew that despite the enormous embarrassment it caused him, he always ended up enjoying it in the end.

He sighed, pouting, and made a wish. Then he blew out the candles and everyone started clapping. Timur then released his embrace, placing a kiss on Maxim's sulky head.

"Now, everybody in the kitchen, come and get your share! Max, you first!”

“I don't like cake.”

“That's not what you said last year" Shuhrat laughed “You even took two slices of it.”

“My tastes have evolved.”

“Come take your portion while it's hot and stop sulking, huh?”

Maxim complied.

After the awkward ritual, the rest of the day went much more quietly. Maxim was able to do his puzzle quietly, Sasha came to help him between some communications. Timur, on the other hand, had spent the day in his couch, scribbling, looking at Maxim from time to time, who tried to shift away, blushing.

After a while, Maxim couldn’t help but ask:

"Ok that’s enough, what have you been drawing since this morning?!”

“Oh nothing.”

“Show me.”

“Maxim Vassilevich, where have gone your manners?”

Maxim grunted, got up from the table and walked dangerously towards Timur, who immediately closed his notebook and held it against his chest. Maxim had his sly smile and it meant nothing good:

“Max... Don't even _think_ about it.”

Maxim threw himself at Timur to tickle his ribs.

"Oh my God, Max, Max, Max, Max! Stop it! Please, I beg you!”

Timur was _very_ ticklish.  
And Maxim was _very_ devilish.

Timur tried as hard as he could to keep the notebook to his chest, but Maxim's tickling was unbearable, he tried to get Maxim off by all means, with his elbows, his knees, turning around, but the slightest movement seemed to expose new sensitive patches of his skin and it was _hell_. Timur was literally crying with laughter and Maxim had a big smile on his face.

Max finally got his hands on the notebook, releasing Timur who was completely out of breath, his beanie out of place and his T-shirt having lifted up and revealed his lower abdomen. Maxim took good notice of it.

With the precious notebook in one hand, he gazed at Timur and slipped his hand over the bare skin of his belly, in a warm and generous caress. Timur stopped breathing, at first fearing further tickling, but soon another kind of sensation came over him. Maxim's hand came dangerously close to the elastic band of his boxer shorts, but each time it went up towards his navel and ran through his muscles with tenderness. Timur started to feel his _desire_ reaching to his nerves.

"I offer you a deal, Glazkov.”

“You are pure evil.”

“I get to look at your notebook, and I'll let my hand continue. Or you keep your notebook, and I'll stop.”

Timur looked at him as if he had just spoiled the death of his favorite novel character.

“Can we negotiate?”

“I don’t negotiate.”

Maxim's hand stopped stroking him, still under the t-shirt, and Timur bit his lip.   
Closing his eyes, he reluctantly said:

“I'm really not finished, and I really want it to be finished so I can show it to you.”

“So, I take my hand away?”

“Can we negotiate?”

Maxim snickered and withdrew his hand, putting his T-shirt back on and giving him his notebook back.

"Your loss, Glazkov.”

Timur swallowed his saliva.

_Since when had Maxim become such a tease?_

And of course, because Sasha was keen on preserving the rituals of Vostok, a birthday party had to be _showered_ with vodka. With moderation (or not). They tried to avoid any alcohol outside of special celebrations, Antarctica being in fact a continent with serious alcohol issues: many scientists and workers there could not stand the polar night, the isolation, the life in close community, the distance from their roots, from their family, and it was not uncommon to hear about an accident or a fight in a station because of drunkenness.

But hey, Maxim's birthday, honestly, how do you stop Sasha from bringing out his secret vodkas? To be honest, vodka was circulating pretty well in Antarctica, in Russian stations. In addition to being a ‘recognized’ antifreeze, it was a true Russian cultural product, and the Program management wanted non-Russian scientists and seasonal workers to have a "real Russian experience in a hostile environment among the toughest workers on the continent". As proof of that, Vostok still proudly displayed relics of the first expedition in 1957, such as the ATT-11 heavy tractor, which had been officially named an Antarctic historical monument and which still stood on the station's outskirts as a real trophy.

Still, as soon as the evening meal was over, Sasha had hurried to bring out the vodkas to serve everyone. And especially Maxim.

"They come from Mirny too?” Marius asked.

“Yeah. We officially have 8 bottles on the winter budget, 1 per month, but I have... my contacts.”

“Is it me or is Mirny like an underground trafficking hub? Is there a black market out there or what?”

“It's a very big station” Sasha explained “They are more than 50 during winter, so imagine summer, they're almost 200. But anyway, I didn't have to insist for long when I told the logistics manager that I had a _mistake_ on the shipping, and that I hadn't really _seen_ the vodkas in the container, and that they better _not forget_ them because we were going to stay on our isolated perch all winter long and that I had _several birthdays_ to _celebrate_. Of course, I had to pay her, but she was very understanding and I say we honor her.”

They toasted again and continued to drink. And when they were sure that Max was drunk enough, they brought him little presents. Max blushed, drunk or embarrassed, anyway, he blushed and was very happy. Shuhrat and Marius had given him a thick _Behavioral Study Manual on Polar Fauna_. Finka and Sasha had given him a beautiful hunter's knife, sealed in its case (not that he had many opportunities to use it, but they knew Maxim's love of knives), Emma had not been aware of his birthday, but had given him one of the three sacred Swiss Army knives she had since her very first expedition to Antarctica. Monika... Monika had hidden her cards well, since she had taken out of who-knows-where in her belongings... some raspberry liqueur that her sister was making in Austria.

_In other words, everyone got prettily plastered._

However, Tim had disappeared. Maxim realized it at the end of his... uh... second glass of raspberry liqueur? or raspberry vodka? He got up to look for Timur, staggering first to the shower room, but he wasn't there. Turning around, he tried the dormitory, the kitchen and finally found him slumped in the office chair in the communications room. He was tinkering with something.

“Whadyou’re up to?" Maxim mumbled, tangling his syllables.

Timur started, caught in the act. He sighed:

“Just when I was finishing. I had a whole scenario planned to come and embarrass you in front of everyone by giving you my present.”

“You have a present for me?”

Timur rolled his eyes:

“Really Max?! Do _I_ have a present for _you_?”

Max leaned against the door frame, pouting:

“I don't know, you've been missing for 20 minutes... “

“You're completely drunk, aren't you?”

“You would be, too, if you'd stayed and drank with us.”

Timur laughed and waved him over.

Maxim misinterpreted and literally came and sat on Timur's laps, the chair squeaking dangerously at the added weight.

"Max, you- “

Max hugged Timur tight and buried his head in his neck.

"Oh well... I didn't know that side of you. _My baby bear_.”

“I wouldn’t be too confident if I were you. Sasha and Finka gave me a brand-new hunting knife.”

Timur laughed and grabbed what he'd been tinkering with. He had taken a display book from the communications room's office things, and slipped into each plastic pocket... a drawing.

"This is for you. I know it's not much, but I didn't exactly expect to run into someone like you when I left Bellingshausen, so I didn't prepare the great gift you would have deserved.”

Maxim, still on Timur's lap, grabbed the display book and started to leaf through it. The front cover was a pencil portrait of Gagarin with a hole in the shape of a puzzle piece on the mouth. Maxim smiled. He opened the holder at the first pocket and frowned:

"Why did you draw a coconut?”

“Haha don't you remember our official presentations? I quote Sasha: _Maxim Vassilevich Basuda. A real coconut. Hard on the outside. Soft on the inside._ ”

Maxim facepalmed:

“How could you remember such a thing... “

“Why, what do you remember?”

_Your blue eyes. Your cracked iris. Your cheekbones. Your smile._

Maxim ignored the question and turned the pages. He found lots of small drawings, sometimes in pencil, sometimes in felt pen, sometimes realistic, sometimes comical and cartoon-like doodles. There were drawings of Shuhrat and his clown look, of Maxim stooped over his puzzles, of Sasha and his paternal looks when serving everyone at breakfast, of Lera threatening Maxim with her thermometer, of Julien panicking over the fuel in the snow, of Maxim sleeping and-

"Wait, you drew me while I was sleeping?!”

“Yes, look, I even made the drool streaming out of your mouth.”

Maxim was getting ready to sulk, to push him out of the chair, to scowl but instead...   
He burst out laughing.

Timur realized it was the first time he heard him really _laugh_. His smile spread under the pressure of the loud, frank and comical laughter that was coming out of his throat. Maxim had one of those ultra-communicative, super weird laughs, the kind of laughter that would make millions of views on a "Top 5 weirdest laughs" video. His eyes were firmly squinted, tears were threatening to run down his cheeks. Maxim held his abs and got up from Timur's knees to cling to the table and stop himself from falling. Maxim's laughter was so contagious... that Timur laughed too. Both were completely hilarious. Without some context, one might even have thought that they had simply lost their minds and that the madness due to isolation had finally hit them.

Shuhrat appeared in the doorway:

"Well, someone’s having a good time, I see. What have you done this time, Chip ‘n Dale?”

Max gradually calmed down when he saw Shuhrat, and wiped away his tears.

“Sorry, he has a very contagious laugh" Timur breathlessly admitted.

“Ah the legend of Maxim's laughter. As rare as a green ray, but as hypnotic. Come back and have fun with us, we miss you and it's your party Maxim.”

“Y-Yes, I'll be there in... a minute.”

Shuhrat nodded his head, smirked and returned to the dining room. Timur got up from his chair, readjusting his clothes, and Maxim took the display book from him. He leaned over to Timur and kissed his cheek:

"Thank you.”

He left the room, letting Timur recover from his emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I basically added on my headcanons: Timur is extremely ticklish. Maxim has a weird laugh. Hahaha


	11. (Very) Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maxim's birthday is not over.  
> Can they finally move forward in their relationship? : D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeaaah I know, publishing two chapters in one go haha. I just didn't want to leave the fic on last chapter :)
> 
> Beware, smut happens. If that bothers you, you can stop when it's getting tactile, there is no important information or event afterwards :) 
> 
> Hope you'll like this one. As always, I'm sorry for any mistake or weird phrasing.

Once he was back at the table, Maxim stopped drinking. He was already feeling light and euphoric enough, he didn't want to get totally wasted. Timur had quickly joined them, sitting down opposite Maxim, and had resumed his favorite activity for several weeks: playing footsie with him. Maxim allowed himself to play back, having fun stroking his calves with the tip of his feet. Timur glanced at him from time to time, and let’s be honest, even Maxim could see it - everyone could see it - _Timur was looking at him with loving eyes_. And Maxim felt the same. But there was always this... blockage. He wanted to get rid of it, drop the chains and just... give in, finally. Freely.

With his fingertips he looked for Timur's hand and whispered under Sasha's loud voice:

"Tim?”

“Yes?"

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

“I’m listening.”

“Hm... not here.”

Timur immediately got up from his seat to follow Maxim. No one made any remarks, but Shuhrat winked at them. Maxim put on another pullover, then his thick parka and Timur did the same.

“You've finally decided to hide my body in the snow?" Timur joked.

“I have to try my new knife. Joking aside, let's go to the weather station, ok?”

“Right behind you.”

It only took them a few meters, in -80°C, to reach the weather station, which was warmer and sheltered from the wind. They turned on the lights and settled down at the main table, where Monika's notes were perfectly arranged in small piles. Maxim sighed and Timur waited patiently.

"It's just that... I feel like... I have to tell you. Without that... Hm... I’m afraid we won't be able to move forward. “

Timur put his hand on his and listened silently. Maxim looked at him and his blue eyes seemed to encourage him patiently. Maxim wasn't sure where to start, where to grab this tangled psychological ball to start unknotting it. So, he said aloud what he was seeing. Maxim described the Beslan images to him like a magic lantern, revealing to Timur the painting that had changed his life, captured his lines, his colors, and forever painted a shadow in his heart.

He refrained from crying, feeling an uncomfortable tension grasping his throat from time to time, but he was brave and continued until he felt the weights gradually recede, his shoulders relax, finally free. And soon, although he kept too many unspeakable details for himself, there were enough for Maxim to stop and close the secret box. He sighed and appreciated the new-found lightness.

Timur hadn't said anything all along, and Maxim didn't know what to think. When you tell people that you have been through a trauma and still carry the stigma of PTSD, they often think of their own safety (and who can blame them?) and protect themselves – run away. And he knew that Timur had also experienced his own trauma, including the war of attrition, his miraculous survival and the eye he had almost lost.

After a silence that seemed to last an eternity, Max ventured to touch Tim’s thigh. Timur immediately placed his hand on his, as if to hold it in place, for fear of dropping it. He sighed in turn, and with his fingers gently brushed Maxim's cheek:

"Thank you for telling me.”

“Sorry, I didn't mean to break the mood. But I've been thinking about it for a few weeks now and... even though I hate to say it, it's part of me. That's why I left. That's why I'm never going back.”

Timur came closer, their knees touching, and stroked his temple.

“I understand.”

Fragments of memories came back to Maxim:

 _"What scares me the most is that you... um, don't know what you're getting into.”_ _"I'm just scared that you'll jump to conclusions and be... disappointed.” "That's something I could never do... go back out there._ ”

_“I would like to tell you that I understand" "But at the same time, it seems so important to me that I want to weigh up my words and... show you”_

Timur's blue eyes reached for him. _He understood. He really did_. And now he knew.  
At last he could see the whole of him, Maxim Basuda.

Maxim grabbed his hand and put a little kiss on it. Timur put his hand on his thigh and leaned forward:

"Max, I have to tell you... “

“Yes?”

He breathed in, and whispered:

“I love you.”

Timur placed his lips on Maxim's - it was soft, tender, moist and warm. And then Maxim realized. He was kissing Timur. He put one hand behind his neck to pull him and Timur had to get up from his chair and sit on his laps. Maxim kept Tim’s head in his hands, afraid that he would leave, that he would change his mind. He devoured his lips like a thirsty man finding a bottle of water after months in the desert. Timur moaned against his lips and ran a hand through Maxim's hair, holding him against him, then let his hands fall back onto the collar of his parka and unzipped it so that he could be closer to his body and caress his pectorals under his jersey close to his body.

Maxim had also put his hands under Timur's parka, and lowering one hand down along his sides, grabbed a bounced buttock and repositioned it against his growing erection, but above all, against him.

Eventually they moved a few centimeters apart to breathe, a very slight trickle of saliva falling from their lips. They stuck their foreheads together and smiled:

“You're pretty good at this, Basuda.”

“I really wanted to, Glazkov.”

Maxim now had both his hands on Timur's buttocks and squeezed them together like two doughs.

“I think there’s something else you want” Timur laughed.

“Hmmmm they're even better than in my dreams.”

“Did you dream about my ass?”

“I've dreamt of much more than just your pretty butt cheeks.”

“What if it was a premonitory dream?" Timur teased.

“W-We can... take our time” Maxim blushed.

Timur understood what this meant.  
Maxim had never made love with another man before.  
 _But Timur was resourceful._

“I say it's your birthday. And that you deserve a nice present.”

Timur slowly moved aside and slipped on his knees, between Maxim's legs and Maxim turned crimson red.

“T-Tim... You... You want...?”

“Only if you're ok with it?”

Timur gave him a lascivious look as he caressed his thighs, slowly but surely moving up towards his crotch and Maxim stopped breathing, closing his eyes:

“Oh f- Oh fuck.”

“Anyway, I want to.” Timur reassured him.

Maxim didn't dare. He didn't dare to say yes, but he clearly (and visibly) wanted to. He already imagined Timur between his legs sucking his-

With his blue eyes looking at him and-

Timur undid Max’s trousers and pulled them to his knees, tenderly caressing his thighs and laying little kisses on the way. Maxim was trembling with envy and Timur had to reassure him:

“Hey... Hey, relax... It's going to be ok... “

Timur slowly slipped his hand over his boxer shorts which were already wet with precum. And Maxim growled at the touch, which immediately sent small discharges of sexual electricity through his body. He tilted his head back and placed his forearm over his eyes. Timur smiled and slowly began to pull the elastic band from his boxer shorts to free his cock, which was already hard despite the cold temperature.

"Well, and here I thought the cold would make it complicated, but it seems all I have to do is take you in my mouth.”

Maxim held his breath again in reaction to Timur's lascivious frankness. A thousand questions crossed his mind and were immediately silenced when he felt the touch of a warm, wet tongue against his glans.

"Damn it, Tim... “

Timur continued to lick his glans, enjoying a few more millimeters of Maxim, before taking it in his mouth. Maxim clung to the chair and barely managed keep his lower back from instinctively pushing his hips to deepen the penetration. Timur took a good half, maybe even three-quarters of its length and then pulled his head back, tightening his lips along the way. Maxim's legs trembled with excitement. Timur then began to take him in his mouth again, and began to slowly and amply pump it with his mouth.

Maxim began to see stars.

"Tim... I... I think... soon... already, I..."

Timur purred a " _hm hm"_ still with his cock in his mouth and the vibration sent a wave of pleasure back to Maxim, his mind far too satisfied with Timur's voice being muffled by his shaft in his mouth. Timur continued to suck him off with dedication, and Maxim opened his eyes again to look at him.

He was so handsome, between his legs, his brown, slightly arched eyelashes that opened and revealed his beautiful blue eyes, veiled with euphoria, and his pretty pink lips around his-

"Oh fuck, Tim, I'm going to... Tim... in your mouth... I... "

Timur reiterated his " _hm hm_ " of approval. Timur knew very well what he was doing and Maxim relaxed like a rag doll, his spirits temporarily leaving him and the pleasure rising and taking the upper hand on his mind, waking up his body, as the orgasm shook him. He closed his eyes and grunted, feeling his ejaculation flowing down his cock inside Timur's mouth.

After several seconds of nirvana, he finally came to his senses. The metal chair. The table. The cold. _And Timur between his legs licking him dry?!_ With his mischievous cat-like look. His glans, hypersensitive, was half hurting and half still excited. Timur finished his work, slipping a finger in his mouth and releasing it in a very acoustic "pop".

Maxim was speechless and giggled:

“I can't believe it. You're really something, aren't you?”

Timur winked at him and pulled up his boxers and then his trousers.

“Did you like it?” He asked shyly.

“What do you think?” Maxim laughed.

“You seemed to like it. But I want to hear you say it.”

Maxim rolled his eyes with a grin, then straightened Timur up on his two legs:

“It was... amazing. Th-thank you. “

Timur stroked his cheek with a satisfied look.  
Suddenly, the walkie-talkie sizzled in his jacket:

“Timur? Are you with Max? Where are you?”

That was Lera's voice. Timur answered:

“Yes, I'm with Max. We are in the weather station, it's all right, we didn't fall into an ethylic coma in the snow, if that was your question.”

Then Shuhrat's voice:

“OH MY GOD, YOU- BOTH OF YOU- YOU DID- IN THE WEATHER STATION?!”

“We knew that you preferred to keep the drilling station for Marius and yourself” Timur teased.

Maxim laughed. Lera took up the walkie-talkie again:

“Well, at least I don't have to worry about one of you ending pregnant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo this is it. Hope you liked it :) Don't hesitate to let me know what you thought!  
> I have a big piece of smut for another chapter, but I'm not sure I want to publish it in this story anymore u_u perhaps it'll be a one-shot thing, I dunno.
> 
> Anyway see you very soon and thanks to everyone who's been following this adventure <3


	12. Love me like you do.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Max are in love and happy.  
> What could tarnish this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some precisions:  
> \- Winter season in Antarctica is from March-October  
> \- I decided to go back to 15 chapters, I removed a full smut-chapter that I'll probably publish separately.  
> \- Also this chapter starts with a tiny smutty scene: I put asterisks (***) at the beginning and the end of it, if you don't want to read the graphic part.
> 
> I hope you'll like this smoll one. Still sry for any mistake/bad phrasing.

September arrived with the sun, marking the conclusion of the polar night. Winter was coming to an end and soon summer and the new scientists were going to take over the life of Vostok. Surprisingly enough, they had not yet received any information or instructions to start preparing for summer. Usually they had at least the files of the scientists they were going to have to house, and the first round trips to be made with the rest of the white continent, the new gadgets to be recovered from Mirny, the next airplane resupplies. Sasha was a bit worried about it, but remained professional and compliantly waited for the information.

***  
  
That day, while everyone went to work, two specimens had stayed in bed to _have some fun_ in the dormitory. Timur was lying on his back, Maxim was sitting on him, in a cowboy position, still impaled on Timur after their fantastic sex session; both were out of breath, sweating, slowly coming down from their orgasmic perch. Timur was stroking Maxim's body, his thighs, hips, abs, everything, and Maxim was caressing his face. Every time his fingers came close to Timur's lips, Timur pretended to try to bite him and Maxim smiled. Timur whispered to him: 

“You're so beautiful, Max.”

“Don’t sweet talk me”

“You still don't believe me, do you?”

Maxim didn't answer, rolling his eyes and continuing to explore Timur's face.  
But Timur grabbed his hands and plunged his blue eyes into his own:

"Maxim, you’re gorgeous. Your body, your face, your eyes, your smile and just... you. Just who you are. You are a beautiful man. Guess I know why they have kept you hidden for so long, here, just for themselves. Had I known I'd find you here, literally at the end of the world... God, I love y- "

Max leaned over and kissed him. Timur put his arms around his neck and stroked his back.  
After several minutes of a well-deserved hug, Timur joked:

"Will you be able to sit down after that?”

“Don't get any ideas, Glazkov.”

“No, it's just that considering your screams I’d thought that- “

“I didn't scream.”

“At least admit that you whimpered. “

“I didn't whimper.”

“Max. You literally begged me with tears in your eyes to- “

Max put one hand over Tim’s mouth:

“That was your imagination, Glazkov.”

Timur laughed as he kept caressing his thighs. Max finally smiled at him and, reluctantly sat up, getting off Timur and shivering when he rubbed his hypersensitive walls in the process.* He went to pick up his clothes on the floor and Timur, with his arms behind his head, took the opportunity to take a good look at him:

“Stop ogling me, will you?" Maxim grumbled.

“I'm just admiring my work. “

Max turned around and tried to take a look at his back, he saw scratches and hickeys on his shoulder. He glared at Timur:

“You're the worst. If Shuhrat sees this, he's going to be unbearable.”

“I love you too, baby bear.”

Maxim grumbled, roughly put on some clothes, and went to the bathroom.  
  
***

After his shower, Timur had gone to check the weather station to make sure that Emma and Monika were doing ok, and that everything was working properly. He stayed on to help them with some readings and after an hour he left the small building to walk back to the main station. No sooner had he got in and closed the door behind him than Maxim appeared at the other end of the corridor, like in a horror movie. Timur took off most of his clothes, then his boots and put on his indoor trainers. Maxim came closer and leaned against the wall:

"That's my sweatshirt, isn't it?” he asked with a grin.

“Oh, I didn't take you for the possessive type" Timur laughed.

“Hmmm, it looks good on you.”

“I know.”

Maxim grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a hug. Timur let himself be cuddled.

“Well, what's this about?" Timur asked “Someone's in need of affection?”

“If it annoys you I can-“

“No, no, no. Sofa?”

“Sofa.”

Maxim dragged them to the sprung sofa where it all started with an ankle massage.  
Max sprawled out and Timur fell on top of him like a blanket, huddled up against him.

“Hmmmmm I missed you" Timur mumbled.

“You were gone for an hour.”

“That's a long time, an hour.”

“How did it go anyway?”

“Everything was fine. I just gave the girls a hand with their readings. And you?”

“I don't know, Sasha's been on the radio since noon.”

“Still no news for summer?”

“I think that's what they're talking about. “

“It's kind of weird, though.”

“Tell me about it…”

Maxim swallowed his saliva and Timur noticed his discomfort.  
He raised his head slightly and stroked his cheek:

“Hey, what's wrong?" Tim asked.

“Hm... Nothing.”

“Max... What are you thinking about?”

Timur and his observation skills... No detail escaped him.

“I'm afraid they're closing the station" Max confessed.

“Wh-what?”

“Considering the budget cuts, the fact that there were only 8 of us instead of 13 this winter, the fact that we still have no news for summer... I'm scared they'll close Vostok, you've seen how it's already falling apart.”

“But wasn't there this complete renovation program for 2024?”

“Yeah, like the lunar space station program for 2024.”

“But even so, they can't close Vostok. Everything works, and the lake... the lake is still too interesting for scientists, they wouldn't do that.”

“I don't know, but something is wrong and it makes me... it makes me anxious.”

Timur stroked his cheek again and Max nuzzled his face against his palm like a cat.

“They won't close Vostok, Max. The government has just too much pride for that.”

“I hope you’re right… “

Seeing that he couldn't appease Maxim, Timur decided to kiss him. Maxim gladly accepted the soft, bouncy, wet kiss and put one hand on Timur's neck to bring him closer.  
As long as Timur was with him, nothing too terrible could happen to him.

Sasha appeared in the living room:

"Tim...? Come with me. They want to talk to you.”

Timur broke his kiss and turned around, eyes wide-open:

“Who?”

“People at the top.”

Maxim stopped breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it doesn't look too good! We are getting to the last part of the story.  
> Please let me know what you thought of this one :)
> 
> I'm trying to keep a steady publishing rythm despite work and Siegetober o/  
> Take care and big thanks to everyone's who's been following, I love you all <3


	13. Did I ever say it back?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get worse :(  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fasten your fluffy heart's seat belt.  
> And still sry for any mistake / bad phrasing.

_One hour later..._

It was unbearable. Maxim was in complete panic, he was a total nervous wreck, trying to hide the shaking of his hands under his thighs, sitting on a chair in the kitchen with Sasha near him. They were close enough to the communications room to hear snippets of Timur's conversation with the "people at the top". Of the conversation, or _rather of the argument_...

"Don't tell me that I'm the only one who speaks fucking Chinese here!”

“Timur Ruslanovich, for the umpteenth time we are not asking for your opinion. You will go to Mirny next week, full stop.”

“And like Chinese can't speak English? And why can't you tell me anything?!”

“As I’ve been telling you, it's _classified_ , I'm not allowed to give you such information by rad-“

“But that's bullshit! I will not move from Vostok. If it means bringing your Chinese here, so be it, but I’m not leaving.”

“Timur Ruslanovich, do I need to remind you that you are _paid_? You are an employee of the Institute, not a holidaymaker. You do what you are told, I don't even see why I am wasting my time in dialogue, there are no negotiations possible.”

“But there must be someone else?”

“No, there is no one else.”

“I don't want to leave Vostok.”

“Mr. Glazkov. I hate to do this, but if you refuse to do what I am asking you to do, I will put you on a plane to Russia and personally ensure that you can never set foot in Antarctica again.”

“You can't do that...“

“Oh yes, I can. So if you wish to stay in Antarctica, I order you to go to Mirny where we will be waiting for you to discuss the next steps which are, I remind you, classified as top secret.”

“Will I be able to return to Vostok afterwards?”

“That is not up to me.”

“Who then?”

“See you in Mirny, Glazkov. Give my orders to Aleksandr Nikolaievich Senaviev. Over and out.”

Timur did not leave the room. An awkward silence came over the station. Sasha put one hand on Maxim's shoulder and Maxim clenched his teeth so tightly he nearly damaged his jaw. A lump in his throat choked him; he was no longer sure he could speak... without collapsing.

After ten minutes or so, which seemed to last an eternity for all of them, Timur walked out of the room. His eyes were reddened and slightly puffy. He was half surprised to find Maxim and Sasha in the kitchen next door and sighed. He came and sat down in front of Maxim and took a hand from his thighs and squeezed it tight:

"Max, I presume you heard everything?”

Sasha nodded his head for him.

“Max" Tim continued "It's going to be okay. I’ll go see what they want, give them what they want, and come back, okay? Everything's going to be all right.”

Maxim got up suddenly, without a word, and went into the corridor to put his outdoor clothes. Timur sighed. He wanted to run after him, take him in his arms and reassure him, but at that moment, he himself was no longer sure of anything. He tried to be optimistic, to be positive, but the darkness was beginning to suffocate him and he couldn't see how to reassure Maxim when he himself wasn't sure of anything...

He clenched his fists and a tear ran down his cheek. He choked back his sobs, but Sasha saw them and grabbed his shoulder. More out of compassion than to tell him that everything was going to be all right.

Max finally came back inside half an hour later, but made it clear to them that he needed some time to himself. Alone. Timur disapproved, but he had vowed to always respect Maxim's decisions and give him the space he needed. Timur was dying to snuggle up with him, to comfort him, but also to comfort himself, and maybe...

Enjoying their last moments together?

It was so difficult to project themselves, to imagine what would happen next, they didn't know anything. Nothing of what they wanted from him. Why he had to go to Mirny. Why he had to talk to the Chinese. Why it was classified. Why not someone else. And, above all, if he was going to be able to come back to Vostok one day. And if Timur could only come back three years later, would Maxim still be there? Still waiting for him? Still his... boyfriend? What if Vostok actually closed down as Maxim had feared? Timur, usually an optimist, had never been so sad and negative in his life. Everything seemed depigmented, dark and monochrome. And Maxim seemed to slip through his fingers. But Timur still loved him like a madman.

After a relatively quiet dinner, which Shuhrat clumsily tried to brighten up, Timur went to the bathroom to wash his face. On the way he met Maxim and Monika. He thought he overheard Monika talking to him about her relationship with Elias and Dominic and the distance between them. Knowing Maxim, it wasn't him who had gone for advice, it was Monika who was trying to help him, on her own. Maxim looked sullen and seemed to listen as much as he could, trying to believe it.

Timur turned on the light in the small bathroom and took the washrag to wash his face. He noticed that his eyes were still red. He blamed the dryness, which hadn't helped his tears regenerate. He then put a few artificial tears in his eyes before grabbing his toothbrush and toothpaste. He started brushing, leaning against the wall, zoning out.

Maxim went into the bathroom. He caught Timur's gaze, but said nothing, grabbing his own toothbrush as he walked past him, shoving him slightly. He squeezed the toothpaste, a little too hard, and started to brush his teeth. All this in an uncomfortable silence. One might have thought they weren't talking to each other because, let's be honest, talking with emulsified toothpaste in your mouth was not a good idea. But it wasn't. They were just both lost and didn't know what to say to make things better.

Timur finally spit out his toothpaste, rinsing his mouth and Maxim just did the same. Maxim was about to leave the bathroom, but Timur couldn't stand it and got in Maxim’s way:

"Max, please... talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I promise I will come back, Max. You believe me, don't you?”

Maxim rolled his eyes, fleeing Timur's gaze; a bad polarity keeping him firmly away from any physical contact:

“You don't know. Don't promise things... that you don't know.”

“But Max, I –“

“Tim, I don't want to talk about it. “

Timur felt Maxim slip through his fingers once again. He felt like Maxim was... leaving him? Leaving their relationship. Timur was broken, helpless, he could only stammer the deepest words from his heart:

“Max, I love you.”

Maxim sighed as he made his way through, closing the door behind him.

_Five days later Timur boarded a plane._

Everyone had hugged him. He had hugged Max, but Max hadn't hugged him back. Timur had held back his tears, but his pupils had trembled under the tear load.

He had repeated it to Maxim.

“I love you"

He had climped on the plane and left.

And when he was out of reach, Maxim had collapsed in the snow and realized that he had never said it back.

_That he loved him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I'm a terrible person. Taking it all away from them u_u
> 
> Also, tomorrow or saturday may be the next and... last update. Depends on how much I manage to translate becoz CH14 is a thicc one - it's like 10% of the fic's total length haha - but CH15 will be super shorty (pun intended).
> 
> Hope you liked this one, despite its angsty content.


	14. People, I've been sad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vostok's life changes dramatically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is it. This is like already the end. The outcome.  
> I really wanted to add photographs of several places and situations mentioned in this chapter, but feared it would make the reading less fluid and perhaps some of you preferred to keep imagining everything :)
> 
> I hope you'll like this one. And sorry for any mistake or weird phrasing.

The two weeks following Timur's departure were among the worst of Maxim's life, and of the entire station. Maxim woke up at night in panic, fighting against his blanket, desperately looking for the body that had disappeared from the right side of the bed, looking for his weapon, something to defend himself against the darkness. Lera was sometimes forced to give him pills to get him back to sleep, and during the day, Maxim was a wandering black aura. He tried as best he could to pretend that everything was back to the way it was before; after all, he had lived more than 38 years without Timur, and more than 5 years in Antarctica without him.

But why was it so hard to go back to how it used to be? All his fears, everything that had frightened him had happened. Timur was gone. Timur had promised he would come back, and he still hadn't given them any news. Even Monika had heard from her companions.

The reality was that Maxim could no longer live without him. It was like suddenly stopping running only to realize that you couldn't walk anymore and... crashing on every step you took to try to keep going.

Sasha was the only one able to calm Maxim, at least for a few moments. His experience on the continent had given him enough proof that people never really leave Antarctica. On the contrary, healthy and tenacious enough workers were so scarce that the Russian program tried to keep them there - sometimes at the detriment of their own will. But serious workers sent back to the continent? No, unless they had endangered lives of others (and even for this kind of thing, other arrangements were sought). Timur had to stay in Antarctica, he was too useful to the program, too versatile and too serious, it would be a waste of time and money to send him back to Russia. The worst that could happen was that Timur would be permanently reassigned to Bellingshausen or another Russian station, but even then, there would surely be a way to find an arrangement. The next person who would join Vostok was surely not as ready and tenacious as Timur, and they would need to call Timur back.

_But what if Timur never returned to Vostok?_ Maxim came to doubt his own life choices. Was he ready to leave Vostok, his sanctuary, and his family to join a man he had only been in love with for 7 months? Maybe not, but maybe he could do it to join the only man he has loved and will ever love?

Maxim was lost.  
Maxim was sad.

It was easier to suffer when he didn't know what he was missing. Now all he could see was the gaping hole Timur had left behind. And he couldn't help but think back to his stupid metaphor about the puzzle, and... and yes, Maxim felt incomplete and missing his critical piece.

“Max, can you come to the living room?” Sasha asked. “I have an announcement to make.”

Maxim held back the sarcasm that was about to escape him. _Huh, another one of those "people at the top" who think we're just pawns on a chessboard? Oh no, not a chessboard, that’s right, it's forbidden in Russian stations since the depressed guy smashed his colleague with an ice axe in 59 after losing. Pfff you think they would have learned their lesson? That people are not just pawns and have feelings?_

Maxim went to sit on a wooden stool. He hadn't sat on the sprung sofa since Timur had left. And he wouldn't be sitting on it anytime soon. Monika and Emma sat there instead. Marius and Shuhrat were on chairs, and Lera arrived shortly afterwards and sat on the armrest of the sofa. Sasha cleared his throat:

"So first of all, I want you to know that I didn't know anything about it, but that everything is going to be all right.”

“That’s a terrible start” Shuhrat mumbled.

“This morning I spoke to the Program Director on the radio. And we've been called to Amundsen-Scott, a plane will arrive from McMurdo to take us there. I didn't get many details, but I just know that we're going there together and that we'll have all the necessary information there. We let the station turn in autonomous mode, we take just a change of clothes with us.”

“We also come?" Emmanuelle asked, frankly surprised.

“Yes, I was told all the personnel, maintenance and scientific, including foreign nationals.”

“They really didn't say anything else?” Lera insisted “It's not trivial to leave the station in autonomy.”

“It hasn't been done for several years, indeed, but it's manageable" Sasha reassured her “On the other hand, to have to go to Amundsen-Scott with the external scientists has never happened... We have already been sent to Dome F to help the Japanese with their drilling station in the past, or to McMurdo for a vehicle training... but I don't really see what they expect from us at Amundsen.”

“It's quite a thing, that station” Emmanuelle explained “I spent a season there, they can go up to fifty during winter. They mostly have significant astrophysics equipment.”

“What would we do there?" Marius wondered “Maybe they want to show us new stuff so that we improve the weather station?”

“Well, that’s right, let’s not forget they’re Americans after all" Monika joked “They always have new gadgets to promote and sell.”

“Maybe they want us to help them with something?” Shuhrat asked “Like, maybe they want a drilling station too?”

Sasha sighed:

“I don't know, but I guess we'll get our answer soon. I was just told that everything was classified top secret.”

“Like they told Tim?” Lera asked.

“So maybe we'll meet him there?”

“I don't know. I don't know, but I hope so.”

The next morning, they were on the plane. Maxim felt a deep twinge in his heart when he saw the little yellow and white station, their home, slowly disappearing. Sasha had insisted on sitting next to him, and his presence was indeed comforting.

Maxim hadn't been on a plane in three years. Ever since he had helped the resupply from Mirny to Vostok. Painful memories of the army were coming back to him. Training in Siberia, special operations deployments to Chechnya and other "classified" locations.

On the plane, he could hear several languages being spoken. First, American English: a blond man with an almost Scandinavian physique was talking to a brown-haired man with a cartoon moustache. They didn't seem to know much more than they did. Maxim heard the brown-haired man, named "Collinn", say:

“That is _so_ weird, why are we on such an international plane to Amundsen? In 20 years at McMurdo I've never seen that. Jordan and Eliza wouldn't tell me anything. And I heard from my sources that they even called Jack and Yumi back from Dome F.”

“Yes, _so you told me_ , Collinn" The blonde impassively sighed.

“Aren’t you scared?”

“You worry too much, Collinn.”

“And you don't worry enough, Erik. Imagine how many we're going to be, up there. Look! There are even the Russians from Vostok!”

“Collinn, if someone wanted to make a terrible attack on the international scientific community, he wouldn't go through the program directors to gather us at the geographic South Pole, in other words, _one of the most inaccessible places on Earth_.”

“But precisely, what if it were to make sure there are no survivors? I also have sources that tell me that there will be –“

“Collinn... I'm trying to sleep.”

Collinn finally fell silent, pouting. Their duet was rather comical: the blasé young blond and the older conspiracy-theorist brown-haired. Further up front, two young women were speaking coldly to each other and Maxim thought he recognized the Polish language, a Slavic cousin. He could only make out a few words: "Arctowskiego", the name of the Polish station on King George Island, about 20km from Bellinshausen. Then "reduced budgets", "American", "Russian", "friendship", "race", "minerals", "space". One of the two women had green hair and looked scowling, clearly unhappy to be there, while the other woman stood impeccably straight, as if she had perfectly accepted the instructions she had been given. Other languages were talking behind him, but he preferred to close his eyes and try to get some sleep.

The plane landed after an hour's flight on Amundsen-Scott's perfectly prepared runway. As he got off the plane, in the freezing cold, Maxim was taken by surprise when he saw the station. Large, geometrical, elevated, with a shimmering grey surface. He turned towards his comrades. Finka tried to hide her surprise, Emma had a small smile, looking like she was gazing at an old photo of hers, Sasha had raised his blond eyebrows, and Marius and Shuhrat had held hands. _Were they afraid of being separated too?_ Monika walked with a proud step and the group that had got off the plane, there were about twenty of them, was guided inside one of the buildings.

The air warmed up quickly and suddenly, a… strange atmosphere? Maxim's heart began to accelerate. The walls were rustling, the floor vibrating, smells of coffee, heating, and bits of conversation in every language buzzing everywhere. One could have the impression of entering a university, of approaching an amphitheater where a masterly lecture would be given by great professors of the milieu. People were passing by in a draft.

A man appeared in front of them, frail body, Indian face, thick glasses sliding on his nose and a notepad in his hand:

“Aleksandr Senaviev, from Vostok. Collinn McKinley, from McMurdo. Zofia Bosak, from Arctowski, Grace Nam from King Sejong?”

The four nominees stepped forward, and the man smiled:

“Perfect! I hope the trip went well. I am Harry, and I will be your guide for a few moments. Please follow me with your teams.”

“Can you just tell us where you're taking us?” Collinn asked.

“Patience Mr. McKinley. I've been warned that you can't stand the lack of information, but everything will be explained to you very soon, don't worry.”

The answer did not please Collinn, who bit the inside of his cheek. Erik sighed as he put a hand on his shoulder to try and relax him. Grace grinned at him:

“That doesn't mean we can't exchange information _with each other_ " she slyly suggested.

Collinn's face lit up and the Polish girl raised an eyebrow.

“I'm Grace Nam, head of the King Sejong station on King George Island. My superiors contacted Hwa Cheol Gyeong and me two weeks ago to let us know that our presence would be required at Amundsen-Scott.”

“Sensibly the same thing" Sasha continued "Except that we were warned... yesterday morning. But one of our guys was summoned to Mirny two weeks ago for some... “

“Classified reasons?" Collinn added “I knew it! Something's happening! A week ago Erik and I were told, oh and just to quickly introduce myself, I'm McMurdo's Chief Telecommunications Engineer, so in short we were told that we had to go to Amundsen-Scott, but without any information! I tried to worm some information out of our resident contacts here, but no one said anything!”

“We were told that it was a great opportunity, something unique in the History of human activity in Antarctica" the green-haired Polish woman explained.

The other Pole looked at her sideways, but the younger one obviously didn't care.

Sasha had stopped walking for a moment, looking shocked, then resumed, impassive. Maxim questioned him with his eyes, but Sasha kept everything to himself, shaking his head, looking as if he was chasing away invasive ideas. Lera, usually not very demonstrative, could not help sliding her hand around his arm. Sasha put his hand on hers, meaning he was fine.

“Harry” guided them into a large conference room, which looked academic but professional and was equipped with a big projector. It was from this room that the buzzing was coming from. Looking around, what immediately shocked Maxim was the diversity of the people. Accustomed to Caucasians, he was surprised to come across so many Asian, black, Latino people in the same room, of all weights and heights, and even... _tattooed_?

“DOMINIC?!” Monika cried.

Dominic immediately turned around and widened his eyes. Shoving everyone in his path, he ran at full speed towards her and Monika came to meet him, hitting him with all her weight and clashing her lips with his own.

“ _Monika, sweetheart_... “ Dominic moaned in German against her mouth.

“ _Oh baby”_ Monika cried as she grabbed his hair.

Dominic reluctantly stepped aside to quickly murmur:

“ _E-Elias. He's here too.”_

And as on command, Elias appeared with the rest of the Concordia group. When he saw Monika, he almost dropped his coffee mug, which Iana quickly retrieved from his hands. He walked slowly, as if he had seen a ghost, and Monika, still holding Dominic's hand firmly, ran up to him and kissed him with all her soul. Dominic came to cling to her like a blanket and stroked Elias' hair. Elias closed his arms around them and began to cry.

“ _M-Monika..._ “

“ _I missed you so much"_ she moaned “ _My God, my loves... "_

A few foreign eyes glanced at them, but Maxim was pleasantly surprised to see the strangers mostly looking away; no one seemed bothered, having passed the surprise of seeing _a German polyamorous couple kissing each other like in a romantic melodrama in an American Antarctic station as if it were the most everyday thing in the world._

Emmanuelle went to hug her French colleagues from the Polar Institute whom she hadn't seen for several seasons, with a special affection for Julien, who had apparently been her intern! She finally stood out when she met the gaze of a beautiful and tall Latina woman. Emma apologized, and went to find her.

Then, as if the world had decided to bring together all the most beautiful things born in Antarctica, a strong British voice resounded behind them:

_“Tachanka?”_

Sasha turned around:  
 _“Thatcher?”_

Marius's jaw dropped when he saw that the said "Thatcher" who was none other than _Mike Baker,_ the great British scientist who had advanced the knowledge of Lake Vostok by one giant step in 1996. Mike smiled and Sasha took him in his arms, lifting him from the ground and gratifying him with a hug of which he had the secret recipe.

“I haven't been called that in over 20 years! What stopped you from coming back to see me, huh!” Sasha teased.

“Oh you know, science, research, university, books, new recruits, my brother, a marriage, a divorce, and here I am again. I guess it's hard to really leave this continent after a certain point.”

“We have so much to talk about! You’ve been summoned here too?”

“Yep. With my guys, I have to introduce you to them, they're great.”

“Mike?” called Grace.

“Oh Grace. You're here too?”

She offered him a cold hand, looking angry, Mike shook it hesitantly... and finally, she pulled him to her and hugged him with a burst of laughter:

“Nice to see you again, old man.”

“It's good to see you too, Grace.”

Little by little, the small separate groups merged with each other, like molecules. Olivier came to Maxim and offered to sit in the row next to him. Maxim let him.

"Are you all right? You look a little... tired?” Olivier asked.

“I don't like planes" Maxim lied.

“Isn't he there, Tim?”

“He left two weeks ago.”

Olivier was silent. He understood right away what it meant.

“He left like... on another station?”

“They called him for something top secret.”

“Timing seems to coincide with what's happening to us, doesn't it?”

“It doesn't matter. I don’t care.”

“Is that why you've been staring at the floor all this time? You're afraid you'll find him?”

Maxim didn't answer anything. He didn't want to open up to Olivier, even though he trusted him. They were in the middle of a room, full of people they didn't know, and they still didn't know _what the fuck they were doing there._

At the same moment, fate brought in a new group of scientists. A tall round woman and a short blond hyperactive entered, followed by other Latinos including a super-tall woman, a stockier man, then an Indian, an African, a Scandinavian, Chinese and... Timur in the middle. Max pulled his beanie over his forehead and pulled up his neck warmer to camouflage himself.

Despite the hubbub of the room, Timur's voice came to him with a destabilizing clarity, as if he shared a private frequency that was going straight to his eardrums. Timur was chatting easily with the two Asians in their own language: _oh fuck,_ _he really speaks Chinese, the brat didn’t lie._

Timur scanned the room, looking for something, and Maxim knew exactly what it was (no, no, he wouldn't make the stupid metaphor on the puzzle). But Maxim didn't know what to tell him. His heart was pounding, screaming in his chest cavity to join Timur's, like a child separated from his kindergarten sweetheart. But Maxim was in a panic. What was he supposed to tell him? What should he do? Why was he panicking anyway?

“Maxim!" Timur called.

Max then pulled poor Julien to come and sit next to him and block the row of chairs. By the time Timur arrived, making his way across the room, people had imitated Julien and filled the rows around them. Maxim crossed his arms, protected by his wall of French engineers. Timur resumed in a softer voice:

“Max, please, can we talk?”

“Not now” Max grumbled.

“Max let me at least-“

A shrill sound of a microphone woke up the room. The guilty party, Harry, apologized with an innocent and embarrassed look:

“Oopsie” he said into the microphone with a childish expression, and then continued “Ahem. So, hello everyone, thank you for making it here. Please take your seats so we can begin the presentation and finally reveal why we have gathered you all here. “

Immediately baited by the need for an answer, everyone quickly took their seats and Timur had to move away from Maxim to sit further away. Much further away.

A ‘6’ then appeared on the presentation board, with a colored polygon behind it.  
A beautiful black woman then climbed on the stage, impeccably dressed and coiffed, looking authoritative and professional:

“Welcome. My name is Aurelia Arnot, and I am the Director of the International Antarctic Program: _Rainbow Six._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeaaaah I know, the "plot twist" wasn't very subtle haha  
> Still, I hope you liked it. 'Fun' fact, the idea of Rainbow Six as an international program only came when I was writing CH7, and Lera said that Sasha loved to help people from other stations, and was dreaming of an international station. I didn't actually forced the idea afterwards, but it naturally came back on its own a few chapters later :) 
> 
> Last chapter will be waaaay shorter, I'm so sorry u_u, it actually used to be linked to this +3k words monster.  
> \+ Once a gain, I am sooo grateful to everyone reading, kudoing or commenting this fiction <3 It means a lot to me.  
> And I'm so curious about what you thought of this chapter, since it has in fact... little to no Glazkan interaction Oo
> 
> See you very, very soon for the end.


	15. I found a way to reappear.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunion.

“Max! Max!” Timur's voice called

The presentation was over. The dining room at Amundsen-Scott had been specially set up to feed the newly hired staff of "Rainbow Six". Everything was still hard to absorb. The national Antarctic programs had united to create a brand new, international, elite program that would give a powerful boost to scientific research and help modernize the stations in need.

Why Rainbow? (and no; not because everyone was more or less LGBTQ+ or hetero ally) Because all nations were going to participate. Why Six? Because the pioneering stations were going to be Amundsen-Scott, which was to become the first International Antarctic Station, because of its symbolic location, at the perfect geographic South Pole; then Vostok, Concordia, Fuji Dome, and the Kohnen and Halley Stations. Far from transforming them into factories, the program wanted to preserve the culture of each station and protect the original personnel, but wanted to facilitate scientific exchanges, data transmission and the circulation of information. To be able to compare all the stations' geo-glacial data and draw up an advanced Antarctic subglacial map, also using satellite data from ESA, Roscosmos, JAXA and NASA. To be able to point all the telescopes at the same astral object at the same time and discover together the secrets of the universe.

Max didn't really know how to take it. On the one hand, he was reassured by Aurelia Arnot’s words, who had really insisted on the "stations’ culture". Vostok was neither going to become a holiday resort, nor a huge center for scientists. He was going to stay there, he would keep his bed, his favorite stainless-steel cup, his habits... And somehow, he was almost... happy? _Moderately_ happy to know that beautiful personalities like Elias, Dominic, Iana, Aria and Julien would be able to advance the research and the discovery of the secrets buried in Antarctica, to move freely from one station to another, and even maybe... come and see them at Vostok... _at home?_

“Max, please, I just want to talk.”

Ah and Timur. There, Maxim was truly lost.

Max didn't even know why he was reacting like that, why it was so hard to just _tell him_. To tell him that he loved him, that he missed him, that he needed him. Max was angry with himself and as always, was unable to sort out his emotions, and started to panic inside.

Max stopped walking down the hallway leading to the cafeteria and Timur almost ran into him when he suddenly stopped. Tim went to face Max, his blue eyes worried and black-rimmed: he too seemed to have badly slept, the last few days. _How much did he miss me?_

“Max, you heard what they said, didn't you? You see, everything's going to be alright now!”

“You were gone.” Max reproached in a dark voice.

“But you were there, Max! You knew I had no choice, they were going to fire me! They just wanted someone to talk to the Chinese at the Great Wall station, you know, the one next to Bellingshausen? They couldn't come to an understanding with Mei Lin, and they knew I knew her well, it was getting critical to stamp the last points of the Rainbow Accords and-“

“You haven't sent a single message.”

“I know, but I couldn't say anything, and there was so much to do, I was overwhelmed and-“

Max cracked. He grabbed Tim by the collar of his sweater and lifted him up to violently push him against the wall:

“M-Max?”

“I'm pissed off!”

“I can see that, but I swear Max, everything is going to be okay. I can go back to Vostok now, with you.”

“You don't understand. I never told you, I was so mad at myself, I was so afraid I had fucked up everything, but I was so scared and I was lost, I was in so much pain and I reacted like a fucking idiot and I never told you and...”

“Max... ”

“Just, just give me a second... “

Max took a deep breath and released Tim's collar, letting his hands fall back on his shoulders and grabbing them: he was there. In front of him. It was the right moment. It had to come out:

“I love you. Timur, I love you so fucking much, you have no idea. I... When you left, I felt like I was losing everything. And I'm... I'm sorry, I never should have pushed you away, but I was in so much pain and I just love you so much. I can't think of any stronger words, just... it drives me crazy... I love you _so - much_.“

Timur threw his lips on Maxim’s before he had time to catch his breath. He grabbed his jaw in his hands and devoured his mouth like an asphyxiated man looking for dioxygen. A tear ran down from his eye with the slit iris. He then slightly pulled away to scold him:

“Next time, don’t you dare let me leave again, Max.”

Maxim caressed his face and murmured:

“Timur, there won't be a next time. Or I swear that if you disappear again, I will clear my way across Antarctica in an army tank and clear it of all its snow until I find you again.”

Timur licked his lips wet with their mixed saliva and nodded silently. Then he threw himself on Maxim again, crushing him against the opposite wall. Max groaned at the shock, but closed his arms around Timur whose hands went down along his back, holding him tightly. People were walking down the hallway, but the two lovers didn't give a damn.

After long minutes of enjoying their reunion, Timur stepped aside to catch his breath, and sighed as he ran a finger over Max's wet lips:

“Baby bear.”

Maxim chuckled and rolled his eyes, keeping Timur firmly against him.  
He laughed at his own words before he even uttered them:

“The piece to my puzzle...”

Timur gazed at him: Maxim was smiling. He was beautiful and radiating with a glowing light, like the Antarctic sun itself. Maxim thought no less of Timur, whose face he detailed with his fingertips. And when he plunged into the deep blue of Timur's irises, it all came back to him, the first day, the day he fell in love with him.

_A pair of intense, polar blue eyes. Blue in white. Two sea holes in the ice._

THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is it. Chapter title comes from "I found a way" by First Aid Kit, which I like the melancoly of and the lyrics of which quite fit to Max and Tim's relationship, imo. 
> 
> I just want to say a huge thanks to everyone who's been reading, kudoing, commenting and following this adventure with me, that fic meant a lot to me. I'm a bit moved, like this is the end, and I hate endings haha
> 
> The only concluding words I can think of, coming straight from my heart with no filter: 
> 
> I just wish you all to be happy in life and to find your missing puzzle pieces :) Don't give up, one don't find the right ones in one go, but stay confident and hopeful, because they're here, scattered in the world.
> 
> Love and peace to you all.


End file.
